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®Ui Cll0«ntm0 ^xBtttntx^h Ati^m 



A Motor Book for Everybody 



BY 
ERNEST TALBERT 

With Colored Frontispiece and Seventy Illustrations, 
Index, Special Index, Appendix, and Map of Route 




BOSTON 

DANA ESTES & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Oyt'^ 



>> 



Copyright, 1913 
By Dana Estes & Company 

All rights reserved 



THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. 8IMONDS & CO., BOSTON, U, S. A. 



©CI.A350666 



i 0twt tiiis luU A roBQ mrratl;. tut bo murt; I^on'rUtg tl|»?, 
Afl gioittg it a ^ape tlyat tljf« it santb not witljf wJi b^ ; 

Sut tI|o« tlfpwonitij^t oitlg b«atliP, attb ajnb'El it bark to ms, 
g'inrif tnljjtt it graHa and autf Ua, 9 BW^ar, not of itsHf. but ti;r?. 

— Ben Jonson. 



PREFACE 



This book was begun to aid the motorist in plan- 
ning European tours. Each chapter, as far as prac- 
ticable, represents either a day's run including sight- 
seeing, or a day or more given to sightseeing where 
the locality merits it. The arrangement of the story, 
except in Holland, is that of a continuous tour in 
v/hich opportunities to enlarge, curtail or vary the 
route are clearly indicated. Cities desirable as cen- 
ters for touring in hired cars are also given. While 
the book is essentially practical, as may be gathered 
from its table of contents and special index, the writer 
hopes it will prove interesting. 

A knowledge of history, often the leading incentive 
to sightseeing, may be granted the reader in respect 
to England or France, but cannot be positively assumed 
as regards Holland or Germany. This is the more 
surprising in that the Saxons who strove so bravely 
to maintain their white-horse banner against Charle- 
magne, and upheld, at fearful cost, the tenets of Mar- 
tin Luther, were of the same family as those who 
helped Alfred the Great to his victory of White Horse 
Hill and wrought the downfall of the Stuarts. The 
introduction of some salient historical events is, there- 
fore, unavoidable in both "Holland" and "Germany." 
Sincerely appreciating the dryness of history for many 
readers, the author has mentioned, casually, such nov- 
els as helped him to an easy and interested understand- 
ing of the subject. He has also incorporated many of 
those charming legends which lend a special interest 
to places visited. 

Despite his original intention, a careful review of 
facts and experiences forced the author to conclude 



PREFACE 

that he was called upon to write a motor book FOR 
EVERYBODY. The superiority of motoring over 
the old-fashioned railway and hack travel, together 
with the trifling increase (and occasional saving) in 
cost for actual ground covered, led to the inevitable 
deduction that the "only" way for the general public 
to see Europe is in hired motorcars. Indeed, the ob- 
vious advantage — often a necessity — of touring from 
centers, the cost and annoyance entailed by taking a 
car abroad, and the recently increased difficulties 
thrown in his way by foreign governments, may well 
incline even the owner of an automobile to the prac- 
tice of hiring cars. This statement is borne out by 
the example of several motor tourists who, though 
wealthy, have preferred to leave their own cars at 
home. 

With these things in mind, almost the entire "Hol- 
land" has been devoted to the hired motorcar — to its 
cost in various countries, its innumerable advantages, 
its use in actual demonstration of its desirability. The 
rest of the book, written from the standpoint of travel 
in a private car, will occasionally form an inverse ex- 
ample illustrating certain advantages offered by the 
hired car. 

Since no emoluments are involved by the mention of 
maps, books and hotels, commendation and adverse 
criticism may be accepted at face value. Undertaken 
as a desultory avocation, this book was hurried to com- 
pletion when the author realized its possible interest 
to the general public. He hopes, therefore, than any 
chance errors or anachronisms will be overlooked. 

The author takes pleasure in acknowledging his in- 
debtedness to "Mater" for a number of excellent pho- 
tographs, and to Mr. C. M. Owen for his water-color 
drawing of the frontispiece. 

March, 1913. E. T. 



^able of Contents 

BOOK I 
The Heart of Holland 



I. A call for all to go motoring and an entry 

into the Netherlands 52 miles * i 

H. Amsterdam : afoot, and from a motorboat . f 18 miles 11 

III. Broek, Monnikendam, Volendam, Mar- 

ken: by steam yacht . . . . 1 3° miles 27 

IV. Haarlem, Leiden, Utrecht, Naarden, and 





central Holland: by motorcar 


140 miles 


45 


V. 


Motor talk: good-by, dear Holland 

BOOK II 

The True Germany 


130 miles * 


75 


I. 


A new view of Germany and a stop-over 








at Osnabriick . 




176 miles * 


83 


II. 


Hamburg. The second 


city of Germany 




93 


III. 


Hamburg to Brunswick 


June 23rd 


no miles 


109 


IV. 


Brunswick 


June 23rd 




119 


V. 


Brunswick to Goslar via 










Hildesheim 


June 24th, A. M. 


64 miles 


137 


VI. 


Goslar, the Harz, and 










Nordhausen 


Jtme 24th, p. M. 


50 miles 


159 


VII. 


Nordhausen to Leipsic 










via Halle 


June 25th 


78 miles 


175 


VIII. 


Leipzig (Leipsic) . 


June 25-27 




187 


IX. 


Leipsic to Dresden via 










Meissen 


Jime 27th 


71 miles 


203 


X. 


Weimar — via Chem- 










nitz, Gera and Jena 


June 29th 


137 miles 


219 


XI. 


Eisenach — via Erfurt 










and (jotha 


June 30th 


47 miles 


233 


XII. 


Eisenach to Frankfort 


July 2nd 


113 miles 


247 


XIII. 


Frankfort to Bingen: 
down the Rhine to 










Coblenz 


July 4th 


82 miles 


259 



vu 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



XIV. Coblenz to Treves: via 

the Moselle July sth, a. m. 8o miles 

XV. Treves (Trier) and the 

road to Metz . July 5th, p. m. 66 miles 

XVI. Metz and its battle- 
fields .... July 6th 



279 
289 
299 



BOOK III 

A Flight across France 

I. Rheims: via Verdun, 

Clermont and Suippes July 6th 
II. Amiens: via Soissons, 
Coucy - le - Chateau 
and Noyon . . July 7 th 
III. Amiens to Boulogne- 

sur-Mer . . July Sth 

Appendix 

Special Index of Practical Matters . 
General Index 



no miles 

92 miles 
76 miles 



317 



329 

341 
349 

353 
355 



* By rail. 



fBy boat, approx. 



%x6t Of Ifllustratione 



PAGE 

Outer Bailey of the Wartburg, Germany (Colored) Frontispiece ^ 

Map of Route xiv i^ 

View from Hotel Amstel (^.12) \2.t/~ 

Along the Buiten Amstel (p. 16) 12 f^' 

" Old gabled buildings tower above you " (p. 17) . . . 16 *^ 

" Through its placid grachten " (p. 18) . . ;j . . . 18 «^ 

As many wheelmen as pedestrians . . . .' . . . 18 »/ 

Never too young nor too old to pose 34 •, 

" Volendam, beloved of all artists " (p. 35) . . .] . . 34, 

Volendam: Church with drawbridge . . . . . . 38 ^ 

Marken: " Casey " (p- 39) ^ 38 

" One more picture of the little Iambs " (p. 40) . . . .40 

" Sucking her thxmib in the shadow of a comcrib " (p. 40) . 40 i^ 

" A brood of longlegged harpies " (p. 41) . . . . . 40 v^ 

Amersfoort: Koppel port (p. 70) 50 v^ 

Haarlem: Town hall (^.50) 50 i^ 

Haarlem: Vleeschhal (p. 50) 50 i^ 

Osnabriick: In this Rathaus the peace of Westphalia was signed 

(^.89) 8S\^ 

Hamburg: "When the Kaiser really came" (p. 105) . . 88 v'' 

Rathaus 92 v' 

Entrance to free port (p- 93)" 92 v^ 

The Alster river widened into a lake, and the Lombardsbriicke 

iP- 97) • • 96 s/" 

The Church of St. Nicholas — the patron saint of sailors and 

travelers 98 "'^ 

Our hotel on the Alster (^.106) 106 - 

There are many arcades with small shops (p. 98) . . . 1061 

The Old Mill 114*^ 

Hotel Stadt Hamburg (p. 114) 114 '^, 

Inscription on house at Uelzen (^.115) 116 1/'' 

" Even though the face of Heaven and all nature change, he 
will not be forsaken who trusts in God the Lord. 

" In prosperity do not exalt thyself, in adversity do not despair; 
for good is the man who can bear all misfortune." 

ix 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Cenotaph on side of Cathedral {p. 130) 120 '^ 

" Burgplatz, framed by fine old timbered buildings" {p. 120) . i2o\/ 
" German fields look good to American eyes; the landscape is 

bright and diversified " (^. 137) 136 *^ 

North transept of Cathedral (^.152) 172^^ 

Statue of Roland at one comer of Rathaus (^. 173) . . . 172 

"The old timbered houses opposite" {p. 172) .... 172 y^ 

The King's Church {p. 216) 202 ^ 

The Opera House {p. 216) 202 / 

Meissen Castle: A bulwark of the Saxon race {p. 206) . . 206 V 

Burgbriicke, and houses and gardens on the town wall {p. 209) . 208 / 
Courtyard, showing staircase; view of Cathedral minus the spires ^ 

{p. 209) 208 v/ 

Dresden: Frauenkirche 212/ 

" Of course Halberstadt has a Roland " {p. 213) .... 212 y 

The Moritzburg, near Dresden {p. 215) 214 v^ 

A pavilion of the Zwinger {p. 216) 216 v 

Chain steamer on the Elbe {p. 217) ...... 216 \l 

Konigstein, on the Elbe {p. 2ij) 218 v 

The Saxon Switzerland (^.217) 220/ 

Weimar: Hotel courtyards now accommodate autos in place of / 

post-chaises 228 

A German Village Markt 2281^ 

The Moselle: The scene of oiu: pimcture at Alf {p. 287) . . 228v^ 
" The ancient forests of Germany are still extensive forests " 

{p- 237) 236^ 

" The friendly Thuringian hills crowd in almost to the market 

place " {p. 241) 240 V 

Waiting for the Wartburg's drawbridge to be lowered . . 240 v 
The fine tower of Frankfort's Cathedral which we owe to Franz 

von Ingelheim {p. 255) 254 

Frankfort: Frescoed house and " Mahogany house " {p. 256) . 256 

Frankfort: Romer courtyard {p. 256) 256 

View on the Rhine 256 

" A log raft of astonishing dimensions " {p. 264) . . . 264 

" That most quaint of island castles — Die Pfalz " {p. 271) . 264 

Coblenz: The bridge of boats (/>. 282) 274 

Castles there were a-plenty; the whole Rhine country was full of 

them {p. 274) 274 

The Moselle: Cochem Castle {p. 285) 284 

Treves: The Porta Nigra — some two thousand years old {p. 290) 290 

" Metz is a city of surprises " {p. 307) 290 

Vionville: Giving up the German number tag {p. 314) • • 3^4 , 

Mars-la-Tour: Waiting to snap the French poodle (/». 318) . 3^4 > 

Coucy-le-Chateau: " The finest donjon in the worid " {p. 331) ;^ 324^ 
Rheims: " The huge west front largely obscured by scaffolding " , 

{P- 324) • ■ • • . • 324 

Rheims: "Where Joan of Arc leads her endless charge to vic- 
tory" {p. 325) 324- 

X 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Coucy-le-Chateau:, " Crowning a hill almost inaccessible on three ^■ 

sides " {p. 331) ^ ^ 

Rheims: A French funeral {p. 324) 332 

Amiens Cathedral: " The most beautiful church in the world " / 

(^338) ^^^^ 



ya. 



BOOK I 

m^t^taxt of ilottanb 



CHAPTER I. 



A CALL FOR ALL TO GO MOTORING AND AN ENTRY INTO 
THE NETHERLANDS. 

DO you know that you and I may enjoy our 
sightseeing abroad just as much and in just 
the same way as though we were milHonaires ? 
The crux of the matter has long been due to a 
change in the "art" of travel. Time was when a trip 
abroad meant to visit the great spas and capitals of 
Europe, the Rhine, Italy, Switzerland, the Riviera, 
and perhaps certain specially quaint and interesting 
towns. These places we could see as well as the 
moneyed man. We may have been obliged to patronize 
cheap hotels, or even pensions; we may have felt con- 
strained to take slow steamers and Cook's tours: but 
go we could and did. Now, things are changed; to 
have the real eclat of a trip abroad one must leave 
the beaten track — must go where steamers cannot 

I 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

land and railroads do not penetrate. Traveling with 
"Cookies" and "trippers" is not true "good form"; it 
is now essential to see the odd, the unique, the out of 
the way corners where hoi polloi do not jostle one's 
elbows and trample on one's toes. How to accom- 
plish this, is the problem. 

For the rich man it is easily solved; he takes his 
touring-car abroad and the chauffeur does the rest; 
he can even follow the beaten track at chosen inter- 
vals and include old-time sights free from the jar- 
ring accompaniment of shuffling feet and obtrusive 
lunch baskets. 

For us the solution of the problem is even simpler : 
proceed by rail to the large city or wide-awake town 
lying nearest your center of interest and there hire 
a touring-car; if by nature of the country a boat is 
desirable, you should certainly be able to hire a steam 
launch or a motorboat to suit the exigencies of the 
case. Hire your touring-car. Rates are not exces- 
sive — at least, not now — and they should grow more 
reasonable. A motorcar will enable you to see two 
or three towns in one day, as well as stretches of hith- 
erto unexplored and inaccessible country. When you 
consider the two or three days' railway fares and hotel 
bills otherwise incurred to cover the same ground, 
and add to them the saving a motor makes in baggage 
transfer, fees, and carriage hire — to say nothing of 
the strain of trying to make impossible railway sched- 
ules fit desirable routes — you will find that you are 
spending little or nothing more for a very substantial 
increase in benfiets. 

The result is most gratifying: it opens entirely new 
fields of interest, new points of view, adds much pleas- 
ure and profit heretofore unknown, and eliminates 
not a little of the usual drudgery ; you no longer envy 

2 



INTO THE NETHERLANDS 

people who write books of their adventures, for you 
experience the story instead of reading it and could, 
yourself, write whole reams of curious and delightful 
incidents ; towns and vast stretches of countryside you 
were wont to rush through by train, at fifty miles an 
h(jur, lie open for inspection and appreciation, and you 
at last see and learn to know foreign countries and 
foreign peoples as they really are. 

The lingering doubt whether a hired automobile 
really affords the ultimate pleasure of motor-touring 
will be dispelled by this book which is written, in 
part, from the owner's point of view and mentions his 
numerous troubles. In many ways one may find greater 
pleasure abroad riding in a hired car; private cars 
must move between centers of interest, consequently 
their occupants are often obliged to take long, irk- 
some journeys over bad roads, through uninteresting 
regions and dirty manufacturing towns — journeys 
much more advantageously accomplished by rail. 

Sitting in a hired car you have no responsibility; 
care free, you have only to enjoy the present to the 
utmost. There is no arduous task laying out routes 
and choosing good roads; the local chauffeur knows 
them. There is no time lost threading the mazes of 
cities or asking your way in the country; no fretting 
about speed laws or rules of the road. You are 
serenely oblivious of such trifles as that your license 
number in England must be white on black instead of 
being black on white as in Germany, or that the five- 
toned horn you may blow so merrily in Holland or 
in Prussia might cause your arrest in Saxony; burst- 
ing tires and overheated machinery cannot ruffle your 
serenity, nor can stupid pet dogs and foolhardy drivers 
fill you with gloomy forebodings of damage suits. 
The whole appendix tells of motor owners' troubles. 

3 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Yet no one should be timid about motoring. To 
forestall any exaggerated notion of danger, let me 
say that I have ridden close to ten thousand miles in 
motorcars, have never been in an accident, and have 
never had occasion to fear one. If you insist on hav- 
ing a good driver and make him go at moderate speed 
you are safer than in any carriage. 

The advantages of the foregoing suggestions will 
appear from time to time in the following simple 
chronicle of a tour in Holland. 

It is afternoon. Already the sky seems flooded 
with a bright yellow glow characteristic of the long 
northern twilight. Behind and around us lies a 
lonely expanse of waters; before us, a breakwater, a 
long low stretch of land fading into the horizon, a 
few sheds and the tall pillar of a lighthouse, — the 
Hook of Holland. A great hush has fallen; the 
churning screws that carried us so resistlessly across 
the Atlantic have ceased their labor; we are drifting 
with the tide. A perceptible line shows where the 
brown water of the Maas pushes out against the green 
water of the sea. We gather at the forward rail of 
the upper deck to contemplate the scene. 

"Oh, look at the windmills — the windmills!" ex- 
claims Mater, with a break of excitement in her voice. 

"Windmills!" we echo in chorus, as we shift our 
gaze to their dark sails silhouetted against the sky. 

A struggling thought tugs at the cords of our mem- 
ory; it persists and at last grows into a picture — the 
picture of a big white flag with windmill-sails and 
kegs and beavers on it. In a flash our thoughts leap 
back to that hurly-burly city three thousand miles 
away which we designate with proud affection "little 
old New York." Thus, unwittingly, Holland extends 
the hand of welcome; the entente cordiale is estab- 

4 



INTO THE NETHERLANDS 

lished and we look forward, with a feeling that prom- 
ises eager appreciation, to the scenes that await us. 

"Why, it's like coming home," cries Mater, "you 
know my ancestors came from Holland," — and she 
starts an animated discussion in which the name New 
Amsterdam occurs freely. 

Perhaps you will land at the Hook of Holland, or 
perhaps you will sail up the broad bosom of the Maas 
(Meuse) and land at Rotterdam; or, you may not 
arrive on a Dutch steamer, or on any steamer at all: 
but I shall have to pick up the thread of my discourse 
somewhere, so let us thread the needle, as it were, 
at Rotterdam. 

In the face of one of Hood's poems, Rotterdam is 
a disappointment ; but his lines were written long ago. 
Time changes all things and one could hardly expect 
it to stand still for the benefit of Rotterdam, however 
staid and slow the Dutch may be. It is true some of 
Hood's interesting "wat'ry vistas" still remain, as 
well as, 

"Tall houses, with quaint gables. 

Where frequent windows shine. 
And quays that lead to bridges. 
And trees in formal line" 

but the "masts of spicy vessels, from distant Sur- 
inam," are no longer in evidence. Gone are the won- 
derful high-pooped East Indiamen of yore; gone as 
well, their sailors, those picturesque ruffians with 
horse-pistol, cutlass and dirk, red sash, bandanna and 
fez, hookah and terrible outlandish oaths — and all 
the other stage properties appertaining to the seamen 
of days long past. 

They still drink the strong Schiedam schnapps, in 
Holland, and the burning curagoa, but for some rea- 
son these no longer excite the old-time deviltry. 

5 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The renowned Boompjes along the Maas (so called 
from the little trees with which it was embellished 
at completion) is not specially interesting. In fact, 
South Street in New York, as it was some twenty 
years ago — with its ship-chandlers' shops and other 
odd maritime institutions, and the figureheads of the 
great clipper ships forming a picturesque gallery along 
the shore — presented a far quainter scene. The Boy- 
mans' Museum has an uninviting Renaissance front 
and its collections are far short of those at The Hague 
and Amsterdam. 

You may find some diversion in the venerable 
Groote Kerk (the church of St. Lawrence) — in its 
old monuments, its fine brass screen and great organ. 
Scoffy (the scoffer of our party) relates that it was 
here he first saw gravestones in the pavement of a 
church. He tells with amusement of side-stepping 
reverently so as not to walk upon them, a touch of 
sentiment bravely overcome before his journey was 
ended. 

As soon as you get out of the Groote Kerk you are 
sure to be disillusioned somehow. Perhaps the huge 
railroad bridge overshadowing the town does it; per- 
haps the birthplace of Erasmus, so obviously a recon- 
structed building. We all owe this gentleman, whose 
statue adorns the Groote Markt,* a long-standing 
grudge. His famous bon mot (that "the inhabitants 
of Amsterdam live in the tops of trees, like rooks," 
just because their houses were built on piles) seems 
ridiculously far-fetched, especially when you consider 
that the top of a pile is really the bottom of the tree. 
Still, in his day, the use of piles may have seemed a 
wonderful thing that permitted poetic liberties; nor 

*Big Market- 



INTO THE NETHERLANDS 

would I be too critical, for all readers of "The Clois- 
ter and the Hearth" feel a friendly interest in Eras- 
mus. 

With plenty of time and patience one may derive 
some pleasure in viewing Rotterdam. But do not 
venture out too early in the morning : a veritable tem- 
pest of cleaning goes on during the early hours, and 
you will escape a foot-bath only to have doormats 
shaken in your face; and then wipe the dust out of 
your eyes just in time to discover mop handles or 
broom handles executing vicious gyrations in proxim- 
ity to your waistcoat. 

Good-by to Rotterdam. We are on the train, the 
express — so-called — for Amsterdam; the whole com- 
partment is ours, except the seats occupied by two 
young men, fellow passengers from the steamer. 
Pater is pleased to have found room for us in one 
compartment, though it be first-class whereas our tick- 
ets are second-class. Naturally we expect to pay the 
difference in fare, but this is hard to explain to the 
conductor as our knowledge of Dutch is very limited. 
Pater tries him with German, 

"Wir wollen nachhezahlen." 

"Oh — ah! nachhetalen!" exclaims the conductor. 
That's the word ! The Gennan did the trick. Pater's 
eyes assume a glint of triumph and a smile of unutter- 
able satisfaction wreathes his lips. 

Alas, the triumph was short-lived ; "nachhetalen" did 
indeed explain the situation and testify to our honor- 
able intentions, but it provoked a storm of Dutch that 
left us bewildered and helpless. 

"He says, if you give him the money he will get 
you the extra tickets before the train starts," calmly 
remarked one of the young men ; our steamer friends 
were Dutch and we had not even suspected it ! 

7 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Soon we were speeding through the flat reaches of 
Holland, with their unvarying but pleasing repetition 
of fields, ditches, woods, windmills, and beautiful tree- 
lined roads. One of the Young Ladies exclaimed, 
"Why, there are no houses!" But there were, after 
all; only they were low and, together with the farm 
buildings, always hidden in a clump of trees. Some- 
times the barn seemed a continuation of the house; 
sometimes the homestead formed one side of a barn- 
yard which the outbuildings inclosed on the other 
sides; often a flower garden or a kitchen garden was 
included in the complex which was invariably sur- 
rounded by trees — a necessary shelter from summer's 
heat and the fierce winds of winter. But no fences 
could be seen; gates there were a-plenty, but nothing 
other than ditches separated the fields. I suppose the 
staid and honorable Dutch cows and horses would dis- 
dain to step over the gleaming thread of water that 
marks the boundaries of their own proper pasturage. 

The train stopped at several towns — immaculate 
little places raising their quaint gables proudly, in last- 
ing denial of the assertion that picturesqueness and 
dirt are inseparable companions. Door knobs and 
knockers actually winked and blinked at us in satis- 
fied consciousness of their absolute integrity, while the 
cobbles in the street bore a look of having enjoyed 
daily scrubbings for several centuries antedating the 
discovery of Sapolio. 

At one stopping place a rattle on the cobblestones 
was occasioned by an approaching dog wagon (filled 
with shining copper milk cans of various odd shapes) 
which traveled slowly past our train window. Next, 
a clatter not unlike the rattle of musketry demanded 
attention ; our imaginations were not sufficiently active 
even to surmise what might be coming, yet it proved 

8 



INTO THE NETHERLANDS 

nothing more startling than a pretty young woman in 
wooden shoes hurrying to intercept the postman. 

Ten o'clock had struck before we heard the guard's 
welcome cry of "Om — sterrr — domm!" 



CHAPTER II. 

AMSTERDAM: AFOOT, AND FROM A 
MOTORBOAT. 

AMSTERDAM, Venice of the North, old-time 
mistress of the northern seas and empress of 
colonies stretched clear across the world — 
here she lay before us. 

We had not realized that she is a city of canals, and 
the fact being thrust suddenly upon us at night pro- 
duced a remarkable impression. Water at night is 
always mysterious. Here, it winds about you in 
every direction, the foreground twinkling with reflec- 
tions of a thousand lights, the background fading into 
vistas of dark canals where the lights are lost in the 
shadow of enormous trees, or into indistinct per- 
spectives of water-streets lined with rows of crazy, 
decrepit buildings which were out of line and out of 
plumb a hundred years before you were born. This 
scene awakens sensations hard to describe. 

Did you ever use the old, mirror-backed sconces? 
or one of great-grandfather's mirrors with candelabra 
attached to the frame? In them you see twice as 
many lights as there really are and these look quite 
dazzling; the mirror, by contrast, seems dark and 
deep ; so deep as to reflect not only the room but more 
beyond — indeed, if you be in the mood, even scenes 
reflected a hundred years ago. You momentarily ex- 
pect to see shapes in the wigs and ruffs and powder 
and patches of other days; duels would not surprise 
you, nor highway robberies, nor any of the dark, mys- 
terious doings of another age. So the reflections of 

II 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Amsterdam left us — self-hypnotized, almost — with the 
strange feeling of having seen a fairyland that faded 
away in all directions through a gloomy region of 
dark ages to the fearsome background of the Inquisi- 
tion. 

Rising early, next morning, Scoffy threw open the 
casement and stepped on the balcony overlooking the 
waters of the Amstel. The near-by bridge was 
crowded with workers hastening to their daily tasks; 
strange looking trolley-cars — with disks showing a 
number instead of the name of the line — crossed and 
recrossed; various queer vehicles rumbled over it, in- 
cluding even the much-admired milk wagon pushed by 
the milkman himself on this occasion. 

But the real life of the city seemed to be on the 
river. Boat after boat passed in quick succession. 
Some were steamboats with or without strings of 
barges; some, motorboats; some, motor-barges laden 
almost to the water's edge with merchandise or pro- 
duce of various kinds ; other barges were poled along 
by their crews of two or four men. Barrels of oil, 
cans of milk, vegetables, hay, coal, building materials 
— all the varied products necessary to the life and 
growth of a big city— passed along this waterway. 
Once, during a pause in the traffic, four young men 
rowed by in cedar, double-scull shells, taking an ante- 
breakfast constitutional which ended in a spirited race. 
A bit later, the water was deserted save for a river- 
man laboriously poling along a barge-load of brick; 
the bricks, it may be interesting to know, were care- 
fully piled, each one separated from its fellows by a 
liberal quantity of straw. 

To get under the bridge, steamers had to lower their 
sm.okestacks ; as these were hinged at the bottom and 
counterweighted, the performance was no more diffi- 

12 




VIEW FROM HOTEL AMSTEL. (P. 12.) 




ALONG THE BUITEN AMSTEL. {F. 1 6.) 

AMSTERDAM. 



AMSTERDAM 

cult than the opening of a door. Rivermen on the 
motorboats sounded a warning horn or pulled a jan- 
gling bell, to clear the way. These sounds attend the 
good burghers all day long and lull them to rest at 
night; but they served to arouse the Youth (the 
youngest member of our party), who emerged 
through the wonderfully and fearfully arranged hang- 
ings of an adjoining window to blink out at the sunlit 
morning. 

Across the Amstel, every second house is having its 
doormat shaken or beaten and its already immaculate 
front steps scoured ; a small steamer is turning around 
and warping itself in to the dock by means of a curious 
arrangement of piles, like the entrance to a cattle cor- 
ral, driven into the river-bed; this accomplished with- 
out aid of a hawser or of a man ashore, the captain 
leaves the wheel, takes off his coat and shoes, and be- 
gins to wash the deck. 

With the cessation of the noise of clanking engine 
and squeaking piles, a peculiar whistle floated up 
from the garden under our bedroom windows. 

"Hi ! Pater is up," exclaims the Youth. 

Sure enough ; the signal comes from our chief who 
is already at work making his plans for the day. 
Standing upon the little boat-landing at the foot of the 
garden steps, he strikes an impressive attitude and 
says, "Children, take notice ! This morning you may 
walk, shop, and be merry ; but this afternoon you will 
assemble here at two o'clock sharp ; then we will step 
into our motor-gondola and explore the streets of 
'Venice.' " 

Nothing, if not obedient, we proceeded to inspect the 
town. Pater excused himself on the plea of official 
business regarding the hiring of an automobile. The 
Youth, past master on the subject of motorcars, 

13 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

elected to accompany him; so did one of the Young 
Ladies — as a check on the Youth's ambition to ride in 
a sixty horsepower car of maximum speed and mini- 
mum comfort. 

Amsterdam, by dayhght, proved pretty and pictur- 
esque beyond expectation. The Gallerie (arcade) 
surrounding the httle wooded park of the Paleis vor 
Volksflijt first ensnared us, and only a promise of 
better things induced Mater to desert its attractive 
shops. Progress was slow ; every cross street boasted 
a broad gracht (canal), and every bridge of Utrecht- 
sche Straat (Utrecht Street) occasioned a delay to in- 
spect the gracht and decide whether it was more pic- 
turesque than the one preceding, or its superb elm 
trees, along the flanking roadways, more magnificent. 
Whichever way the decision went, cameras were busy. 
We had no difficulty in realizing that the city is di- 
vided into ninety islands connected by nearly three 
hundred bridges. Lack of trees along a few of the 
canals gave an unobstructed view of picturesque 
gabled buildings. 

Nearer the inner city the great number of civil uni- 
forms become a matter for much speculation; besides 
policemen and postmen, there were messengers, hack- 
men, drivers, porters, and doormen, to say nothing of 
uniforms beyond our knowledge or surmise. 

A group of pretty, young girls, wearing violet 
dresses relieved with white, belonged to the Walloon 
Orphanage; wards of the Municipal Orphanage show 
the city colors (red and black) in their costumes; 
black with white headdress, indicated the wearers be- 
longed to the Roman Catholic Orphanage. Dutch mu- 
nicipalities are painstaking and thorough in the care 
of their public charges ; we did not meet a single beg- 
gar in Holland. 

14 



AMSTERDAM 

The attire of private citizens also drew attention. 
Straw hats with high crowns and narrow brims, worn 
by men and women ahke, reminded Scoffy that he 
lacked suitable headgear. Grave young dandies in 
neat suits, wearing bright neckties with hatbands to 
match, and carrying canes indispensable even in busi- 
ness hours, regarded Scoffy's foreign-cut clothes with 
interest, but, raising their eyes to his steamer-cap, 
looked away in marked disapproval. The costumes 
of Mater and the Young Lady also created much com- 
ment and they soon became the observed rather than 
the observers ; for, as Mater remarked, the Dutch were 
not the only "sights" in Holland. 

Of course the Delft store under the Munttoren 
claimed us for a while, though not for long, as the 
famous Kalverstraat lay across the way, and Mater 
was eager to enter this Mecca of the shopper. Kal- 
verstraat is narrow, and resembles some streets of 
lower New York in that the roadway, as well as the 
scanty sidewalk, is crowded with pedestrians. Silver- 
smedderien, jewelry shops, art stores, antique shops, 
and other little places alluring to the traveler, lined the 
way; the prospect of a motorboat ride at two o'clock 
was rapidly fading into the dim region of might-have- 
been. 

But Pater is wise in his generation. Barely half 
Kalverstraat had been traversed, when he appeared 
arid, by cleverly inveighing against certain tempting 
shop windows, piloted us to the trolley station on the 
Sophien Plein. 

Mater remarked there was no harm in stopping long 
enough to take "one more picture, anyway." Scarcely 
had she pressed the bulb when a uniformed minion of 
the law strode towards her; she paled visibly and an 
"I-never-laid-eyes-on-your-old-pocketbook" expression 

15 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

flitted across her features, but the minion, undaunted, 
inquired had she ''taken a picture?" She answered, 
"Yes," with the hesitation of one debating whether it 
would not have been justifiable to say "no"; where- 
upon the minion politely touched his helmet and said 
— he supposed he "must be in the picture," would she 
mind "sending him a copy?" Our laughter nowise 
disconcerted him, and he blandly remarked that a let- 
ter addressed to number — , Amsterdam police force, 

name of , would reach him. With an imperious 

gesture he stopped our trolley-car, handed us aboard, 
and, again saluting, left us to complete our homeward 
journey. 

The Youth, who had been busy feeding the Dutch 
equivalent for sparrows, made the first announcement : 
"Hi ! the boat's waiting for us, I think." A glance from 
the sitting-room window showed a spick-and-span 
motorboat bobbing up and down at the garden dock. 
An alacrity which spread even to the Young Ladies, 
hurried us downstairs and soon we were being rapidly 
chuf-chufifed up the broad Amstel waterway. 

Old Amsterdam was built in a semicircle, with Het 
I J (the Y, an arm of the Zuyder Zee) as its northern 
diameter; the city lies quite close to the Zuyder Zee, 
and the broad east end of Het I J is closed by a huge 
dam with five locks for the passage of vessels — the 
narrow, meandering west end (beyond the city) hav- 
ing been converted into the Noordzee Kanaal which 
cuts through some fifteen miles of intervening country 
to the North Sea. This canal makes Amsterdam a 
seaport and, with the newer Merwede Kanaal leading 
through Utrecht to the Lek and the Maas, has revived 
the city's commercial prosperity, which had declined 
and was being rapidly absorbed by her great rival — 
Rotterdam. 

i6 




OLD GABLED BUILDINGS TOWER ABOVE YOU." (P. 17.) 



AMSTERDAM 

While passing into the Amstelschuts lock we noticed 
an interesting feature, to be seen in various parts of 
the city ; at intervals, along the brick walls of locks and 
bridges, stone sockets — each with a heavy vertical iron 
bar — are inserted to enable rivermen to push their 
barges through these narrow passages. Evidence of 
countless cargoes which have passed this way in the 
course of centuries, is presented by the fact that many 
of these iron bars are nearly worn through and, where 
improvident former generations have failed to furnish 
sockets of stone, the brickwork is scraped away for al- 
most a foot on both sides of its proper boundary. 

'Tis a strange experience to glide unnoticed through 
the arteries of this great city and watch its busy life. 
Old gabled buildings tower above you — stores, ware- 
houses, residences — nearly all provided with a hoist- 
ing-beam over the attic door. The merchants of for- 
mer times lived above their shops or sample rooms, 
attic spaces being devoted to the storage of goods; 
this accounts for the invariable door and beam in the 
gable. Queer craft lie moored along the banks ; many 
strange cargoes line the stringpieces of the quays or 
are being hoisted — with that universal, crooning chant 
— out of the vessel's hold, or up into their attic resting 
place. 

Occasionally our route carried us through grachten 
devoted to private residence. They are nearly always 
lined with fine trees. Children play in the street, in- 
different to the watercourse. Even at this hour, maids 
are busy with the ceaseless sweeping, polishing, and 
scouring; but mevrouw is enjoying her afternoon re- 
laxation — diligently working at her embroidery, out 
upon the steps, or, maybe, nodding over her knitting 
at the window. 

Our boatman pointed out several picturesque towers 

17 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

which add so much interest to Amsterdam's sky line. 
The Holttoren came first ; then we crossed the Joden- 
Bree-Straat, the main street of the Jewish quarter, 
and, passing the Montalbaans tower, we entered the 
broad Oster Dok, in front of the West India House. 
To our right lay the Rijks Marine Dok, the Mer- 
chant School for Navigation and the Sailors' Home; 
to the left stretched the Prins Hendrik Kade, with 
Admiral De Ruyter's house. In the distance rose the 
squat Schreyerstoren built in 1482— once the start- 
ing place of ocean-going vessels, and called "Criers' 
Tower" because of the wails of departing passengers 
and of their friends, in the old, hazardous days of 
ocean travel. 

Soon our boat emerged from the outer locks into 
Het IJ. Dancing waves rocked the little craft and a 
fresh breeze swished the salt spray across our faces; 
we forged past the Handels Kade and other quays 
where scores of seagoing vessels lie, then crossed over 
to visit the Wilhelmina Dok, a dry-dock, with a big 
East Indiaman having its hull repainted below the 
waterline. At one quay we noticed a large English 
yacht whose passengers were gathered in the after 
deck, gravely taking the inevitable afternoon tea. 

We re-entered the city through more locks and re- 
sumed our cruise through its placid grachten. The 
old town was bounded by the semicircular Singel- 
gracht whose sharp salient angles, breaking the uni- 
formity of its contour, still suggest the bastions of 
former fortifications ; within the Singel-gracht are five 
concentric canals, the principal lateral waterways of 
the old city — Lijnbaans-gracht, Prinsen-gracht, Kei- 
zers-gracht. Heeren-gracht, and Singel. On the Sin- 
o-el. the inner canal, you pass several churches, and the 
University Library which, among its 350,000 books, 

18 



AMSTERDAM 

possesses the rather unusual collection of 8,000 vol- 
umes of Jewish literature. 

Owing to religious toleration, Amsterdam harbored 
a very large colony of Jewish refugees — mainly Span- 
ish or Portuguese, though persecution in Germany, 
I'oland, and in the Spanish Netherlands added others; 
being the principal traders and merchants of the Mid- 
dle Ages they could hardly have found a refuge more 
congenial than this great commercial city. The art of 
diamond polishing introduced by Portuguese Jews 
after the sack of Antwerp, in 1576, has made Amster- 
dam, today, the greatest diamond market in the 
world. Spinoza the philosopher, son of a Portuguese 
Jew, was born in Amsterdam in 1632; Rembrandt, at 
the height of his prosperity, occupied a magnificent 
house in the Jewish quarter at Joden-Bree-Straat No. 
4.* In fact, the Jews formed a very rich and influen- 
tial part of the community ; they were patriotic as well, 
never failing to take the side of the stadholders in any 
dispute with the states-general. 

The Amstel, the Binnen Amstel, and some minor 
canals cut across the five great grachten; but the Ams- 
tel does not supply water for the canals ; to prevent ma- 
larial exhalations, their water is continuously renewed 
from an arm of the North Sea Canal, and dredges are 
constantly removing any mud which may accumulate. 

The quiet, sedate, semicircular grachten had special 
attraction for us; on the Prinsen and Keizers-gracht 
lie many old houses, churches, and market places. On 
the Heeren-gracht is the Willet-Holthuysen Museum, 
a private house dating from about 1672 ; also the house 
of Baron Six (a descendant of Burgomaster Jan Six, 
a friend and patron of Rembrandt) which contains 



*Now being converted into a Rembrandt Museum. 

19 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

many fine paintings by Rembrandt and others, nearly 
all acquired through inheritance. 

The Heeren-gracht appealed to us most of all; the 
Fifth Avenue of Amsterdam, it displays styles of arch- 
itecture ranging from the quaint brick dwellings of the 
seventeenth century to the limestone palace of today. 
Our skipper spoke of stately gardens, invisible to us, 
behind walls and buildings. We looked upon this 
silent water-street, peopling it with the images of times 
long past ; our mind's eye saw it covered, by day, with 
fleets of merchantmen bearing strange cargoes from 
the Indies and stranger sailors armed and earringed 
as of old. At night, we agreed, there should be gaily 
dressed jonkheers poling along to seek their sweet- 
hearts ; or tattered adventurers and handsome villains, 
muffled in cloaks, silently stealing by on questionable 
ventures ; and we decided that the great merchants and 
nobles of those days would not sally forth in a coach- 
and-four, but would stride down the damp stone steps 
in the glare of the links and travel away into the night 
on the seat of a speedy barge. Alas ! all too soon, we 
were landed at the little garden dock we had left three 
hours before. What happy hours! what a strange 
experience to store away in our memory. 

The next day was Sunday — museum day. Pater 
termed it. Scoffy had purchased a straw hat to wear 
with his "Sunday clothes." Having learned that the 
sign "Groote Oppruiming" means "Bargain Sales," 
he hied himself to the Utrechtsche Straat and scanned 
the shop windows so labeled. He found a hat marked 
sixty cents, which seemed ridiculously cheap, being 
twenty-four cents (American); its shape was a bit 
too Dutch, so he decided on one at the exorbitant ( !) 
price of sixty cents (American) which might pass 
muster in other countries. He still regrets that re- 

20 



AMSTERDAM 

jected bargain, feeling he missed the pleasure of tak- 
ing home a hat costing less than a quarter. 

The Nieuwe Kerk, adjoining the palace, strongly- 
attracted us, but its being in course of restoration and 
renovation balked our laudable intentions. The res- 
toration of the New Church was not altogether unnec- 
essary; for, as may easily happen with so-called "new" 
things in old countries, its claim to newness lay in the 
fact that it dates back only five-hundred years as 
against the six-hundred and eight years of the Oude 
Kerk (Old Church). Before turning from the vener- 
able edifice one of us quoted the thoughts it inspired 
in the poet Aldrich : 

"Grave, portly burghers, with their vrouws. 

Go hat in hand to cool their brows. 
But high in the fretted steeple, where 

The sudden chimes burst forth and scare 
The lazy rooks from the belfry beam, 

And the ring-doves as they coo and dream 
On flying-buttress or carven rose — 

Up here, mein Gott ! a tempest blows ! — 
Such a wind as bends the forest tree, 

And rocks the great ships out at sea. 

"Plain simple folk, who come and go 

On humble levels of life below. 
Little dream of the gales that smite 

Mortals dwelling upon the height !" 

"Well," exclaimed Scoffy, "that fits the former citi- 
zens of Amsterdam to a 'T'; they submitted to the 
Spanish yoke and sweated under it, while all about 
them, even small towns were doing great deeds and 
tasting the breath of liberty. A fierce and dangerous 

21 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

tempest to breast, and thousands came to grief; but 
those who refused to temporize, and struggled gamely 
to the end, achieved a victory." 

The palace lies on the Dam. The only open door 
at the front was an entrance to the guardroom, yet a 
circuit of the building revealed no other; as a matter 
of fact, the building has been criticised for having no 
main entrance. Having mustered up sufficient cour- 
age to address the lone sentry at the rear, we were 
directed to pull an odd looking bell-handle hanging on 
the door jamb, and it proved an open sesame to the 
grim old structure. 

During the usual wait for a guide a young Japanese 
tourist cornered Scoffy and quizzed him in very fluent 
but indescribably comical English. It appeared he was 
traveling eastward around the world. His questions 
illustrated in a striking manner the indefatigable ef- 
forts of Japan to educate her people according to 
European standards. Conversation was productive 
of little information other than the fact that he ex- 
pected to see Berlin and St. Petersburg. Scoffy was 
glad to end the talk, though afterward he had an in- 
exhaustible stock of quotations proudly prefaced with 
the words, "as my friend. Prince 'Fuji Yama' used 
to say," etc. 

Het Paleis has been called a palace without a king. 
Indeed, it is apt to give the impression that no one has 
ever lived there or ever will, even though we are as- 
sured that Queen Wilhelmina makes it her duty to 
spend at least two weeks every year within its gloomy 
walls. The rooms have a musty smell, carpets are 
either covered or taken up, and furniture and decora- 
tions are shrouded in linen, except for little samples 
left uncovered for the tourist's inspection. But the 
paintings on walls and ceilings are worth seeing, and 

22 



AMSTERDAM 

the carved marble decorations in most of the rooms 
are noteworthy. Of more than passing interest is the 
first-floor vestibule which was used as a municipal tri- 
bunal (Vierschaare) ; we can look down from a room 
in the second story, as from a gallery, and see the 
raised marble seats of the magistrates and the fine 
sculptured frieze with caryatides emblematical of dis- 
grace and punishment. The large reception room may 
be overrated in being called the finest hall in Europe, 
but it is a splendid apartment one-hundred feet high 
and one-hundred and seventeen feet long, with marble 
walls and a fine marble group over the throne room 
door. Of greater popular interest than its roof, with 
a clean span of fifty-seven feet, is the collection of 
Spanish battlefiags and trophies hanging overhead, 
both here and in the throne room. 

"Well, it is nice to breathe fresh air again," ad- 
mitted one of the Young Ladies, as we stepped out of 
doors. Scoffy was the last to emerge, having had 
some difficulty in effecting the release of an umbrella 
retained at the office, until in a desperate repetition of 
"umbrella, regenschirm, parapluie," this last proved 
the magic word. 

Owing to the Sabbath we did not cross the Damrak 
to see the Cafe Krasnopolsky (one of the largest in 
Europe) nor the curious store of Wynand-Fockink, a 
firm established in 1697, whose curagoa is known all 
over the civilized world. One Young Lady vetoed the 
suggestion of visiting the Begynenhof, or beguinage, 
having heard it was largely restored, and being averse 
to going out of her way to see buildings not positively 
grimy with age; it was, however, a mistake to pass 
it by. 

The rest of the day was devoted to the Rijks Mu- 
seum. Besides its priceless pictures, there is much that 

23 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

is admirable in this vast collection. Fully a day might 
be given to the division of ecclesiastical art, the rooms 
of civic and industrial art, and the military, naval and 
colonial collections. The gold and silverware, glass, 
porcelain, faience, and lacquer work are beautiful. 
Even the Youth, not usually interested in furniture or 
interior decoration, grew quite excited about the sep- 
arate rooms with all their old-time fittings; and the 
rest of us, not generally given to any great appreci- 
ation of boats, were charmed with the naval collec- 
tion, declaring its sectional models more fascinating 
than any doll's house ever built, though the museum 
did not lack dolls' houses. 

An out of the way corner of the rear basement con- 
tains a large array of wax figures clothed in the peas- 
ant costumes of the Dutch provinces. To a stranger 
the odd clothes mask any awkwardness of posture and 
make the figures appear singularly lifelike; men and 
women, old and young, small children, and even ba- 
bies, are depicted. The dainty lace cap of the Volen- 
dam fisher-girl, the ruffled hood and spiral gold pend- 
ants of the near-by peasantry, the gold helmet of the 
noble freule of distant Friesland are all represented; 
in the course of the next forty-eight hours we saw 
many of these on their native strand or heath. 

While viewing the pictures, the Youth assumed 
command of the party in virtue of having a guidebook 
which indicated those of greatest repute. His idea of 
art approximates that of the old-style tourist who 
rushed through the galleries with eyes for nothing ex- 
cept those canvasses which have a star of special merit 
in the catalogue and which, consequently, one must see. 
Accordingly, with merciless forefinger moving down 
the page, he hurried us from room to room and gallery 
to gallery until we were almost overcome with fatigue, 

24 



AMSTERDAM 

and Scoffy growled that he was going to sit down and 
admire "something I like, be it triply starred or doubly 
damned." 

Occasionally there is quite some pleasure in being 
perverse and wandering through a gallery without a 
catalogue; in many a room of great collections one 
suddenly comes upon the original of a picture long ad- 
mired, and barely escapes stretching out one's hand 
and saying, "Well, I declare, how are you ! You cer- 
tainly look fine ; I never realized that you were located 
in Amsterdam," or "Dresden," or "Paris," or wher- 
ever the place may be. But there is a middle ground ; 
though enthusiasm inspired by the guidebook is often 
mere affectation, it is just as questionable — in strolling 
through a Dutch gallery, for example — to deliberately 
avoid mention of a name so famous as Rembrandt and 
to raise one's lorgnette with studied indifference and 
say, "Ah! a van Rijn, I suppose — just as I thought." 
Or in some other gallery, "I should say that this must 
be a Santi," or "A Holbein! of course. One of Hans' 
best, don't you think so ?" Many people go into ecstacy 
over a picture because the book lauds it, whereas they 
might better frankly say with Scoffy, "As my friend. 
Prince 'Fuji Yama' used to say, 'Honorable picture 
may be really some fine excellent, but perhaps I think 
always much opposite.' " 

"But the 'beat' of them all," says the Youth, "is a 
certain lady who, on seeing the Dresden Chocolate 
Girl, exclaimed, 'Merciful heavens ! what have they got 
that old advertisement stuck up in this picture gallery 
for?'" 

And so they were all inspected — ^The Night Watch, 
The Staalmeesters, The Banquet, The Jovial Toper, 
The Fool with the Lute, The Dancing Cat, The Mar- 
ried Couple in the Garden, The Sick Girl with the 

25 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Physician, The Old Lady EHzabeth Bas, The Water 
Mill, Potter's Cattle and Weenix's Dead Game, The 
Roysterers, The Cavalry Fight — hundreds of them, 
great and small; starred, double starred, and not 
starred at all. All of them depicted merely the Dutch 
people of years gone by; how they lived and loved, 
how they ate and drank, worked and played, and 
quarreled and fought — and all were strangely and in- 
sistently attractive. 

What is there about the old Dutch paintings that 
makes them so interesting, so restful and satisfactory 
to contemplate? They fit into any environment and 
yet never lose their individual atmosphere and charm. 
Can it be that the minute detail and commonplace sub- 
ject rest us by making no demand upon our imagina- 
tions when we are not in the mood; and that, con- 
versely, when our spirit stirs, their lifelike colorings 
and the warm gloom of the backgrounds stimulate 
our thoughts by suggesting mystery and romance? 
Or, is it the elemental Dutchness of the Teutonic race 
— hidden away in every German, Englishman, and 
American of us all — which detects a kindred spirit 
v^^ithin those gold frames and welcomes it as one meets 
congenial company; 



26 



CHAPTER III. 

BROEK, MONNIKENDAM, VOLENDAM, 
MARKEN: BY STEAM YACHT. 

EARLY Monday morning we were to have 
started our motor-tour, but rain put an end to 
the plan. Pater, in negotiating for a com- 
fortable F. I. A. T, touring-car, had stipulated that 
clear weather be essential to the agreement, so we had 
neither to go out in the rain nor to leave our car "eat- 
ing its head off" in the garage — another argument in 
favor of hired cars. By half-past nine, a pause in 
the shower induced us to risk a wetting and under- 
take a boat trip to Volendam and Marken. Though 
the weather threatened to be variable, we hoped to ap- 
propriate enough sunshine to last during our landings. 
The trolley ride to the dock was not without inter- 
est. Scoffy seized the opportunity of having a smoke, 
which is open to those occupying any of the seven 
"standing-room" places on the rear platform of a 
street car. In spite of such privileges, many a thing 
is forbidden in Holland; "If I live to be a hundred," 
Scoffy affirms, "I'll never forget the Dutch phrases 
'Geen Toegang' and 'Verhoden to Roken' — 'No Ad- 
mittance' and No Smoking.' " Much merriment was 
occasioned when the conductor raised the lid of a tin 
box to display his varicolored wares and Pater found 
himself able to purchase lemon-yellow "return" tickets 
in place of orange "one-way" slips. A saving race, 
the Dutch ; if they do not all grow rich there must be 
something radically wrong. 

27 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Pater elected to be the first aboard the ten-thirty 
boat rather than last for the ten o'clock sailing. Mak- 
ing ourselves comfortable in wicker arm chairs at the 
stern of the pretty craft, we felt as though about to 
sail in our private yacht; nor were we at all disturbed 
in this illusion on receiving some pleasant neighbors, 
who passed the time of day, and a few remarks of 
common interest. 

Our boat cut across Het IJ in a northerly direction 
to the locks of the Noord Hollandsch Kanaal. The 
broad, ducklike build, applied to both sailing vessels 
and barges, at once engrossed attention ; it is doubtless 
due to a desire to acquire as much tonnage as possible 
in those shallow waters — the huge, wide, oarlike fins 
attached to sailing vessels (one on each side) being 
used in lieu of centerboards, to prevent drifting. 

Holland is noted for its fisheries; it is said the 
Dutch took to fishing because the long, hard winters 
made beef and mutton very scarce. However this 
may be, fishing laid the foundation of a great in- 
dustry and smoked fish proved of inestimable value in 
the merciless sieges of the Inquisition as well as in 
fortifying Dutch sailors against battles with foreign 
fleets. Entering the canal, we found it lined with 
fishermen ; the rainy dawn probably accounted for this 
large number and for the presence, even, of several 
fisher-maidens. Involuntarily they contributed to our 
entertainment. The canal's level was quite high, so 
persons sitting on the banks had their feet close to the 
water; our yacht drew about an eighteen-inch wave 
which washed against the shore with considerable 
force. When I add that fishermen not too deeply ab- 
sorbed in their floats to raise their eyes, kept them 
glued on the passengers, your imagination can picture 
the rest; very few escaped a bath, while only a small 

28 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

number of those whom a "sixth sense" warned, man- 
aged to wriggle up the bank in safety. For each victim 
we gave a cheer, and three cheers and "a tiger" for a 
fisher-maiden who got thoroughly soused. Some lost 
their poles, and one his basket ; but, I truly believe, not 
one lost his temper. 

That much of Holland lies below the sea level was 
strongly impressed on us, for we sailed along the eaves 
of houses beside the canal and experienced the odd 
sensation of seeing only red-tiled roofs and treetops 
close by. The distant landscape presented the usual 
appearance : immense, fertile fields intersected by can- 
als and ditches ; occasional woods or thickets, generally 
of willow ; the characteristic windmills and cattle ; and, 
3t intervals, beautiful roads lined with elms or pollard 
willows. The roads crossed our waterway on curious, 
high, wooden bridges — some nearly semicircular — 
mostly, pivoted swing-bridges or hoisting-draws. 
There was little traffic on the water. We passed a few 
snubnosed sailing vessels, whose crews had gone into 
harness on the towpath and were mildly assisted by a 
jigger sail at the stern. Two pretty girls, their arms 
full of flowers, waved the gay burden in friendly greet- 
ing. Besides these and a few children wearing bright 
jerseys and wooden caps, we saw hardly a soul except 
the fishermen. 

After passing through a lock from the main canal 
into a smaller one, we proceeded at reduced speed, 
owing to the care necessary when steering a long boat 
in a narrow course, and also to a desire to wash out the 
banks as little as possible; for we were now running 
almost level with the fields and the shore was no longer 
protected by a continuous, stone retaining wall, merely 
by a few piles ; at times, there was no protection at all. 
As we advanced, our wash started up groups of sheep 

29 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

grazing near the water — many of them huddhng to- 
gether too scared to move; but the goats and the fa- 
mous black-and-white cows continued grazing undis- 
turbed. 

So pleasant had been our journey that, before we 
realized it, the boat reached the dock at Broek-in-the- 
Waterland, the greatest "spotless town" of all Hol- 
land, 

As we had hoped, Jupiter Pluvius withdrew his 
legions of moisture, and we were able to inspect the 
town in sunshine and in comfort. Broek is a pretty, 
sleepy, little village boasting a lake with a summer- 
house — or music pavilion — at one end; its streets are 
shaded by fine trees, and nearly all the houses stand in 
gardens; altogether, one receives the impression of a 
small park, while a few canals afford the additional 
charm water gives to a landscape. The houses, 
square in plan, have only one low story; but their 
large, hipped roofs of red tile save them from being 
boxlike and commonplace ; some were brick and some 
wood — and though the latter were painted the much 
discussed, striking, blue or green, they did not con- 
trast disagreeably with their surroundings. The far- 
famed cleanliness was not unpleasantly evident and 
should not be counted against the place. 

We strolled along a shady avenue, past church and 
town fiall, to the celebrated cheese-farm shown to tour- 
ists. To call this a cheese "factory" might be mis- 
leading, for it is nothing more than a house of the 
foregoing description containing — as do many farm- 
houses in Europe — living-rooms, stable, hayloft, and 
dairy, all under one roof. Once within, we crossed 
the hall and entered the stable. Perhaps Broek's fame 
arose right here. Everything smelled of fresh paint, 
and the stalls — untenanted in summer — displayed ex- 

30 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

aggerated cleanliness. A neat oilcloth runner was laid 
along the foot of the stalls, and their floors were cov- 
ered with fresh, white sand carefully raked into dia- 
mond pattern; each stall had a window with bright 
blue trim, and each window — O shades of Notting- 
ham! — a neat lace curtain. 

"Gee !" exclaimed the Youth, "a cow would have as 
much fun with that curtain as a Yankee with a piece 
of pie," and he forced the guide to admit that things 
"didn't look quite so clean in winter." 

Near by, stood an appetizing pile of golden cheeses. 
In the next room the cheese is weighed, pressed, and 
soaked in brine; beyond, lay the dairy — a large, cool, 
stone-floored apartment containing the huge churn, or 
separator, and a galaxy of shining tin and copper ves- 
sels. Having peeped into the haymow, handy to the 
stable, we passed into the living-room which called 
forth many "ohs" and "ahs" from our feminine com- 
panions. Its walls and cupboards displayed an at- 
tractive collection of pewter and blue china; at one 
side of the room a great, projecting fireplace was 
flanked on either hand by curtained bunks for sleeping 
quarters, and at the foot of one was a little, walled 
shelf for the family baby. 

There was barely time to explore the interior of the 
whitewashed church close by, for Mater and the 
Young Ladies suddenly became very busy trying to 
secure a photograph of a young, country priest who 
had joined the party, and whose costume seemed well 
worth recording. All black, it consisted of a long 
flowing coat with countless buttons, vest, knicker- 
bockers, stockings, shoes with big buckles, and a squat, 
square, stiff hat; but for the presence of rabat and 
cross, and the absence of bright colors and silver but- 
tons, one might easily have imagined him just a hand- 

31 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

some, prosperous young peasant in holiday attire. 
Fortune did not smile upon the "camera fiends" ; they 
lacked the boldness to "shoot a priest in the face," as 
the Youth remarked with a chuckle, and, though they 
waylaid him. twice and chased him almost a quarter 
of a mile, no picture was acquired. Even the elements 
were against them, for a shower put an end to our visit 
and prevented a call at the tempting antique shop in a 
house along our road. 

On the yacht, a table was spread under the awning 
of the after deck, and we welcomed the unexpected 
sight with all the delight due the Tischlein deck dich 
of the German fairy tale. "A good square meal," 
Scoffy affirmed, "and enjoyed at ease while the charm- 
ing panorama continues to unfold before us." 

Traffic on the highway which bordered the canal at 
this point greatly enlivened our passage. Work horses 
with huge collars, their harness profusely ornamented 
with shining, jingling, metal rings, patiently drew 
heavy, covered wains. A number of farm wagons of 
queer, boatlike shape caused Scoffy to discourse on the 
influence of the sea on Dutch wagons, but he promptly 
desisted when Pater said he had seen similar wagons 
among the peasantry in France and Germany. Quaint, 
high gigs passed us, their horses also equipped with 
high-peaked collars and be-ringed, be-tasseled har- 
ness. One gig, old enough to have come out of the 
ark, was — according to the Young Ladies — a coun- 
terpart of the one-horse shay immortalized by Holmes. 

Thus laughing and joking, yet keenly enjoying the 
njost trifling details of foreign life, we approached 
Monnikendam, our second stopping place. 

"Now, children, put aside this levity for a moment 
and listen to me," said Pater. "Before you land, 
please note that Monnikendam is one of the 'Dead 

32 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

Cities of the Zuyder Zee.' About 1572, when Amer- 
ica was not even a fringe of straggHng colonies cHng- 
ing to the skirts of the forest primeval and the site of 
Nieuw Amsterdam still belonged to our copper-colored 
friends, the Manahatta, Monnikendam was making 
history. Together with Hoorn and Enkhuizen, she 
put Amsterdam to shame by manning a fleet of fight- 
ing ships and defeating Spain's Admiral Count Bossu, 
Governor of Holland and Zealand and member of the 
order of the Golden Fleece ; destroyed six of his thirty 
ships, put the rest to flight, captured him and three 
hundred men and took away his Golden Fleece, 'tis 
said, as a trophy. Nozv Monnikendam is hardly more 
than a memory. And so with other great cities of the 
Zuyder Zee; betrayed by the treacherous shifting 
sands, they are mere caricatures of their former selves. 
Edam, once a prosperous city, has become a cheese- 
making village; Enkhuizen, once a city of forty thou- 
sand, with a fleet of four hundred fishermen and twen- 
ty men-of-war, a fine harbor, an arsenal, crowded 
warehouses and handsome residences — what is it now ? 
A dull town of scant six thousand, its harbor choked, 
its business gone, grass growing in the streets !" 

Landing near the church, we traversed the village 
and met our boat which had meanwhile passed through 
several locks, at the further side. This great brick 
church, standing in a grove of noble trees, looked like 
the cathedral of a large city rather than the church of 
a sleepy village, and, but for Pater's explanation, we 
should have marveled at its size. The dark day made 
its bare interior gloomy and forbidding; we could 
scarcely see the fine altar screen, the pulpit of 1653, 
and the more important monuments. It was a relief 
to get into the open air, for the structure seemed like 
a tomb. 

33 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

We walked along the main street, venerable seven- 
teeth century houses rearing their carved gables on 
either hand; many of them leaned over as if ready to 
fall and bury the whole place in their ruins rather than 
bear up in such a scene of desolation. The fine carved 
wood was covered with whitewash; a few tiny shop 
windows, cut here and there into the fronts, were 
filled with flyblown trinkets always for sale and rarely 
sold. Here and there a front was buttressed to re- 
strain it from collapse, the buttresses projecting into 
the street. 

Crowds of villagers followed us, children begging 
for cents while young girls and women offered articles 
for sale ; many rushed from the houses hoping to profit 
in some way by the visit of strangers. Scoffy bought 
a child's cap from a girl who pressed her wares on 
him ; as Mater seemed interested, one woman, standing 
in the rain, sold her a cap right off a baby's head 
rather than lose the chance to earn some money. Near 
the center of the town rose a fine standhuis tower 
mutely eloquent of days gone by. But the worst sign 
of decay was grass in the streets; for grass growing 
up through the pavement in a Dutch village is, indeed, 
the token of a sorry fall from high estate. The place 
looked inexpressibly pathetic in its living death — sad- 
der than any "Deserted Village" or any Pompeii sud- 
denly cut off In the fulness of its years. We soon 
tired of keping Indian file in the middle of the street, 
along the narrow flags that stood for the medieval in- 
terpretation of a sidewalk and, striking across the 
cobbles, hastened our transit until it became a veritable 
rout. Withered hopes, undying despair, and who 
knows what old ghosts that stalked those crooked 
S'Tcets, seemed to drive us on. Our talk grew hushed, 
and it was with a feeling of positive relief we hurried 

34 




NEVER TOO YOUNG NOR TOO OLD TO POSE. 




VOLENDAM, BELOVED OF ALL ARTISTS." (P. 35.) 

VOLENDAM. 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

aboard the yacht where we again dared raise our 
voices in idle chatter. 

Soon a considerable stretch of water separated us 
from this spectre of the past and the boat headed for 
a fishing village up the coast of the Zuyder Zee. To 
the left, stretched the long low shore with occasional 
roofs, windmills, and spires breaking the monotonous 
outline, and presently a forest of masts, partly hiding 
an irregular background of gaily colored houses, dis- 
closed itself as Volendam — beloved of all artists. 

The landing was made inside a massive stone break- 
water whence a crazy wooden footbridge brought us 
on shore once more. The sun, as if anxious each 
place should have its proper setting, decided to unveil 
his shining face again; the gay colors of native cos- 
tumes and the bright touch of flowers in cottage win- 
dows enhanced the cheerful scene. Pretty girls, wear- 
ing dainty white lace caps with flaring- ends like wings, 
strolled down to meet us. Their dark waists were 
relieved by square-cut white yokes edged with color, 
and their short skirts — one might almost call them 
kirtles — of bright blue or gray had a curious, broad, 
light-colored band below the waist. Swarthy fisher- 
men in red jerseys and wide trousers — the noisy sahot 
on their feet — squatted on steps or lounged at street 
corners. Far from abashed by a stranger's scrutiny 
they seemed quite able to return a stare with interest, 
and we again received the impression that we were the 
"sights" and they the observers. 

As before, the captain of our vessel assumed the 
position of guide, leading us along the principal streets 
as well as through winding back alleys which one could 
hardly dignify with the name of thoroughfare; up 
steps and down he went, around corners and over 
bridges, till we lost all sense of direction. It was 

35 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

amusing to become acquainted with back-yards that 
boasted duck ponds, canals and drawbridges. The 
houses, so tiny as to suggest doll houses, were of 
the wooden clapboarding familiar to Americans, 
and were painted in the primary colors with 
their trim picked out in harmonious tints or in 
clear white. Nor did the captain fail to take us 
inside a house — a large one ( !) — with two rooms 
on a floor; four people made a room seem crowded, 
and the ceiling was uncomfortably close. It was the 
usual small Dutch interior, the most prominent fea- 
ture being, as always, the blue tiling of the fireplace. 
A shining copper kettle was singing on the hob ; there 
were no pictures, the walls being covered with kitchen 
utensils and nice old china; the only furniture was 
some chairs, a table and a big clothes-chest; small, 
neatly-curtained bunks formed the sleeping quarters, 
for one bed would have filled the entire room. 

Outdoors, the sun was shining brightly and cam- 
eras were busy. Evidently the fisher-folk had learned 
the purpose of a camera and knew what was expected 
of them, for they at once assumed obvious poses and 
waited for the shutter to click. When Mater essayed 
to photograph two women some one raised the cry of 
'■'Pictur', pictur'," and the little group was rapidly aug- 
mented from all the near-by houses. 

"Scoffy," said Mater, "you give that woman some- 
thing when I get through ; I asked her to pose, and I 
guess that she expects it." Hardly was the camera 
closed when a dozen hands were outstretched and a 
dozen voices shouted, "Monee, monee!" Mater fled, 
laughing heartily at Scoffy's plight. He, poor man, 
gazed in confusion at the clamoring throng; it seemed 
as though each person must be waving at least two — 
if not three — hands close to his nose ; so, singling out 

36 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

a skinny claw that appeared to belong to one of the 
original old women, and dropping a ten cent piece in it, 
he hurriedly followed Mater's retreating figure. 

"Gosh !" he panted, "I wonder if they will give that 
old woman a beating and put her to bed without sup- 
per, for interfering with the rights of the young and 
strong." "Never mind, Scoffy, you stood your 
ground nobly ; I'll do as much for you some day." So 
she did, before the day was over. Poor Scoffy! At 
the very last street corner he was stopped by a bevy of 
pretty girls and, since nothing short of violence could 
have liberated him, he purchased one of the very ordi- 
nary lace caps the girls sell at a price worthy the fine 
ones which they wear. But he managed to square ac- 
counts by means of his camera. 

We were all making for the boat, and two village 
girls (the most popular "subjects") were slowly strol- 
ling behind us, comparing notes on their ill-gotten 
gains. "Fine chance for a free picture," murmured 
Scoffy, "though it's pretty far off." So saying, he 
pressed the bulb. Far as it was, their sharp eyes spied 
him and with a shrill cry of "Monee!" they started 
in pursuit. On the sea wall he had a clear track, 
whereas the girls on the footbridge found their course 
impeded by pedestrians, and so, amid the cheers of his 
friends, the rash photographer gained the boat in 
safety. Just then the lines were cast off and we 
started for Marken. 

The island of Marken is an unusually strange place ; 
cut off from the main land in ancient times by an in- 
cursion of the Zuyder Zee, it has retained the manners 
and costumes of six centuries ago and for many years 
was an object of curiosity even to the Dutch. Despite 
its dikes the low land is still subject to inundations; 
in such an event the clusters of houses on their eleva- 

Z7 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

tions are separated into several little colonies, and com- 
munication is then maintained by small boats. There 
is a church, a municipal hall, a schoolhouse, a ceme- 
tery ; the pastor's house is the only stone dwelling and 
his garden boasts the only trees on the island. The 
population of one thousand consists entirely of na- 
tives, for no one, it is said, marries outside the island ; 
they do conform to the demands of modern civiliza- 
tion to the extent of importing a pastor, a doctor and 
a schoolmaster, and besides the three R's the children 
are taught history. 

As Marken is a fishing village the men set out for 
the fishing grounds on Sunday night, returning the 
following Saturday morning. They wear dark flannel 
shirts or jackets, generally gray, adorned with but- 
tons in the shape of coins or medals handed down from 
father to son for many generations ; their breeches are 
black or dark brown and, though very baggy, are 
gathered tight at the knee — thus resembling knicker- 
bockers, while the trousers of Volendam men are more 
like long trousers cut off above the ankle. Black stock- 
ings, sabots, a bright handkerchief loosely knotted 
around the throat, and a felt or fur cap complete the 
costume. 

The women's dress is extraordinary. They wear 
the same two-toned kirtle as the Volendam girls, but 
with this a sleeeveless waist or bodice of rich red elab- 
orately embroidered in gold and colors, which, as it 
takes years to make, is also handed down from genera- 
tion to generation. The lacking sleeves are supplied 
by those of a red-striped shirt or chemise, covering the 
arms to the elbow. Children's costumes are similar. 
Another interesting feature is the headdress, a lace 
turban completely covering the ears and often richly 
embroidered or edged in color ; the hair is worn in two 

38 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

long, curled tresses which, hanging in front of the 
ears, fall down over the bosom, while a square-cut 
bang is brushed down flat to the eyebrows. As our 
boat made the landing a number of these strangely at- 
tired villagers approached. 

"Aha!" quoth Pater, "the audience having arrived, 
the curtain goes up and the performance will begin." 

"Land sakes alive!" cries Mater, "what queer look- 
ing critters." 

"Yes," chimes in the Youth, "and to think of their 
buttons being a hundred years old! Gee! Just im- 
agine, if you were to give your suspenders an extra 
hitch and one of your grandfather's life-saving medals 
popped off into the water." 

"And, good gracious !" exclaimed one Young Lady, 
"just think of making a horrid spot on your great- 
grandmother's best stomacher without her knowledge 
and consent." 

Amid the bustle of landing we heard a shrill voice 
ashore calling, "Casey, Casey !" "Everybody else keep 
back," said some one, "Casey's at the bat." Casey 
proved to be a four-year-old, proudly wearing a bat- 
tered straw hat with his native costume; whatever 
"Casey" may have signified in Dutch, it certainly lent 
a very ludicrous touch to the situation and, I may say, 
"brought down the house." 

Two little toddlers confidingly put their hands in 
Mater's as she walked towards the village, and one 
alongside Scoffy showed the same intention; but 
Scoffy resolutely kept his hands in his pockets and re- 
fused to be cajoled. "I'll bet those kids are trained 
to go holding hands like that," he remarked. 

Judging by the absence of masts from the landscape, 
the fishing fleet was away, but there were a few men in 
native costume around and plenty of women and chil- 

39 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

dren of all ages. Ahead of us, on the brick-paved path 
leading to a distant group of houses, were two boys 
carrying a young pig in a wicker basket, and we all 
wondered whether that, too, were only part of the 
show. Several miniature canals were crossed on 
planks and other frail bridges. Near one we saw a 
woman washing clothes at the water's edge — a simple 
means of attaining a laundry with running water; she 
looked so busy and so utterly unconscious of our pres- 
ence that we decided she, at least, must be genuine. 
At our destination we found the usual house open for 
inspection ; it was much like the one in Volendam, with 
perhaps even more china displayed on the walls — and 
every piece "an heirloom." 

"I wonder if any of it is for sale," whispered one 
of the party. 

"Of course not," was the reply, "they're heirlooms ! 
But just the same, I'd hate to offer a dollar for one of 
those plates ; I'm afraid I'd soon own the whole place." 

Clothes-chests were opened, and when the family 
wedding dress — also handed down — was displayed for 
the edification of the ladies, the men made room by 
waiting in the street. No one inquired whether toll 
was taken after the show was over, for a subsequent 
incident set all doubt at rest. On the way back we 
passed a tiny girl sucking her thumb in the shadow of 
a corncrib ; this necessitated a stop for another picture. 
"No! it wouldn't ask for money, would itf" cooed 
Mater, pinching the youngster's pink cheeks, "but it 
shall have it just the same!" and forthwith she cor- 
rupted the child forever by forcing a penny into its 
tiny fist. 

At the boat landing Mater had occasion to rescue 
Scoffy as she had vowed to do. He stopped to take 
one more picture of the "little lambs" and his group 

40 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

was, as usual, augmented by every child within hail; 
the picture taken, he was confronted by the customary 
financial crisis. He handed ten cents to the big girl, 
nickels to the little ones ; the additional hands embar- 
rassed him because some of their owners had no claim 
beyond the fact that they got there in time to collect, 
but he hoped to smooth his way to the boat by a 
rapid distribution of coppers. It was no use — "silber ! 
silber!" they screamed; his "little lambs" were sud- 
denly transformed into a brood of longlegged harpies 
fighting over their prey. 

Meantime Mater rushed aboard the boat for help. 
"Pa," she cried, "throw a handful of silver on shore 
for those greedy things, before that poor boy has his 
clothes torn off his back." "Pa" responded promptly 
and, during the confused scramble for the elusive coins, 
Scoffy made his escape. 

In the light of all the foregoing it is amusing to 
read what the Italian Amicis had to say of the people 
of Marken as he found them in 1874. "The greater 
part of them," he writes, "never see any other land 
than that of their dear little island. They are poor, 
but knowing nothing of any better condition and hav- 
ing no wants or desires that cannot be satisfied they 
are unconscious of their own poverty. Among them 
there is neither change of fortune nor distinction of 
class. Everybody works, nobody serves. The only 
events which vary the monotony of their lives, are 
births, marriages, deaths, an abundant catch of fish, 
the arrival of a stranger, the passage of a vessel, a 
tempest on the sea. They pray, they love, they fish. 
Such is their life ; so generation succeeds to generation ; 
preserving unaltered like a sacred heirloom, the inno- 
cence of their manners and their ignorance of the 
world." 

41 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

A merry party gathered on deck for the return trip ; 
our neighbors had odd experiences to tell and many 
jokes to relate. Purchases were compared and freely 
discussed; considerable comment was called forth by 
the children's caps Scoffy and Mater had purchased, 
and commiseration was expressed for children who 
had to wear at one time a linen hood edged with lace, a 
plain linen cap with black edging, a strip of red flannel 
to show off the lace on the third hood above, and 
finally, a bright red outside hood of a design like the 
old-time Cashmere shawl. "If those youngsters can 
survive all that," exclaimed one lady, "I don't wonder 
Dutch peasant women can wear thirteen petticoats at 
once with never a protest." 

The gentleman lauded the practice of having a but- 
ton atop a boy's cap. They thought it must prove a 
priceless boon to a bachelor, who is otherwise con- 
stantly exposed to the danger of having his hair pulled 
for calling a "him" a "her." 

A sudden downpour of rain put an end to conversa- 
tion and turned our thoughts to the queer and con- 
stant change of weather. This was as capricious and 
treacherous as the great Zuyder Zee has always been. 
At the beginning of the thirteenth century the province 
of North Holland adjoined Friesland, and the land 
now at the bottom of the sea was a fruitful country 
dotted with towns and small lakes. Then came the 
first ominous inroad of water from the north, and fifty 
years sufficed to change the map of Holland. 

It is a long, gloomy tale of lives lost and cities de- 
stroyed. When the hungry waves seemed to have 
reached their limit the Hollander and the Frisian drew 
a breath of relief and, behind new-formed dikes and 
bulwarks, began to build new cities. But peace was 

not yet secured; though its waves were beaten back, 

42 



BROEK TO MARKEN, BY STEAM YACHT 

the sea laughed its victims to scorn and, marshalling its 
changing currents and shifting sands, blocked up the 
new ports and doomed them, one by one, to join the 
Dead Cities of the Zuyder Zee. 

As we sailed across the Zee's surface now, under the 
murky sky, the water turned a chilly, ominous steel- 
gray. A curious cruciform buoy swung on the waves, 
like a great iron cross marking the graves of those 
poor souls below, while its bell tolled a fitful requiem. 
At a distance, in the faint light, two fishing boats lay 
almost becalmed ; against the gray water they showed 
black, even to their flapping sails, and looked for all 
the world like two big ravens slowly circling near. 
Yet as we gazed, golden patches of water and sunlit 
villages showed on the horizon ; in a few minutes the 
clouds broke and we were bathed in a flood of sun- 
shine. The water now turned a beautiful green ; little 
waves, purple on their shadow side, raced across it; 
cool salt air blew in our faces, and our day regained 
all the dancing, quickening lure of the sea — that subtle 
lure fatal to those who yielded to the tempting voice 
and settled along this shore. 

Drawing near home we passed many ungainly ves- 
sels at anchor. Their strange rigging, the tiny cabins 
with flowers and bird-cages in the curtained windows, 
the white or green trimmings of railings and deck- 
houses, and the curious green animals used as figure- 
heads — these all looked so attractive that we wished 
we could stop and go aboard. 

As we passed a grim island-fort Pater figured out 
we must be right over the great Pampus sand bank 
that once threatened the port of Amsterdam with de- 
struction, and caused the burghers to work in mad 
haste building dikes, locks, and jetties, and digging a 
canal westward to the North Sea. Soon the fantastic 
spires of Amsterdam loomed up before us. 

43 



CHAPTER IV. 

HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN, 

AND CENTRAL HOLLAND: 

BY MOTORCAR. 

THE ensuing evening was spent indoors, mak- 
ing plans for future campaigns. Our yacht- 
ing trip had cost only three gulden ($1.20) 
apiece, exclusive of luncheon and of the highway rob- 
bery to which frequent use of the camera had sub- 
jected us. "But then, you know," Mater remarked, 
"a true 'artist' must expect to pay his models." 

Meanwhile, Pater was interviewing his unfailing 
friend, the p or tier, and learned that we should have to 
begin our motor trip as early as seven-thirty, next 
morning. 

Whatever a traveler would do without the hotel's 
portier is too serious a question to be lightly raised; 
the plainest inference is that he would do hardly any- 
thing at all. The portier is the original friend in need, 
if there ever was one; he is the universal interpreter, 
bank of exchange, "handy guide and city directory," 
arbiter of everyone's plans, routes and destinations — 
all embodied in one large gold-bound edition. Had 
he not been much indebted to this wearer of the gold- 
edged cap and resplendent uniform. Pater might have 
added that he is a born "jollier" and foresworn ally of 
the room clerk in making "third-floor-back" accommo- 
dations appear more desirable than those wired for on 
the "second-floor-front." I have never ceased to mar- 
vel at the lady who could twice address one of these 
dictators as 'portiere" — and live. 

45 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Objections to early rising did not prevent the ladies 
from appearing promptly next morning, when our 
handsome F. I. A. T. car drew up at the door. We 
were politely handed aboard by the chauffeur and solic- 
itously tucked in beneath rugs and dust robes. With 
a cheery tarantara of the bugle, so different from the 
wail or croak of the customary auto-horn, we headed 
for the Haarlem road. 

Our chauffeur, unlike the proverbial Dutchman, 
proved quite loquacious ; his English was not the clear- 
est, but close attention on our part and unabashed con- 
fidence on his made the conversation fairly intelligible. 
It was decidedly interesting. 

He drew attention to the fact that we were crossing 
the Haarlemmer Polder — that vast reclaimed area, 
seventy-two square miles in extent, formerly Haarlem 
lake — and he spoke of the IJ Polder further north. 
He told of the sluice gates at Halfweg, passed on our 
way from Amsterdam; how these formerly kept the 
IJ's waters out of the Haarlemmer Polder, and how, 
if re-opened, they would even now flood the entire 
country from Amsterdam to Haarlem and, perhaps, 
as far south as Leiden (Ley den) and Utrecht. 

He pointed out the pumping station, continually 
busy; and the water gauges (stuck in the canals like 
huge bath thermometers) used to aid pumping station 
engineers, lock-keepers and gatekeepers in various 
parts of the country, in maintaining the water at its 
proper level. No idle precaution, when one considers 
that vast, complicated system of water-highways and 
the many towns and farms below its level. 

He spoke of plans, long under way, for reclaiming 
the Zuyder Zee — a tremendous undertaking, estimated 
to cost at least 125 million francs. Originally, the cof- 
ferdam was to cross the narrows from Medemblick to 

46 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

Stavoren with provision for allowing the waters of 
the Yssel and Vecht to escape to sea ; recently this plan 
has been modified, perhaps to avoid these two rivers, 
and the dam is to go from Enkhuizen to the island of 
Urk, thence to a spot just below Kampen. 

So it appears that the Dutch, feeling that they have 
at last beaten old Father Ocean to a standstill, have 
decided to assume the aggressive and wrest from his 
watery grasp the lands seized seven centuries ago. 
Why not ? Despite the death and destruction it caused, 
the Zuyder Zee is hardly over seventeen feet deep 
within the prescribed area. 

Medemblick and Stavoren are both "dead cities." 
The latter, once the home of Frisian princes, was very 
rich and powerful, and they say its inhabitants carried 
ostentation to the extent of gilding the railings and 
doors of their houses, as well as many ordinary uten- 
sils. The popular legend of Stavoren's downfall is 
interesting; no "Mene, Tekel, Upharsin" appeared 
upon the walls, yet the mills of God ground so exceed- 
ing small that its doom was brought about by the idle 
whim of an ambitious woman. When one of her hus- 
band's ships was about to sail she instructed the cap- 
tain to bring back for her, "the most precious thing in 
the world." The luckless mariner, interpreting this 
order according to his wholesome views, returned with 
a cargo of wheat from Danzig; furious that her vis- 
ions of fine gold, priceless jewels and who knows what, 
were blighted, the woman ordered the entire cargo 
thrown overboard then and there. And, so the story 
goes, this grain took root and grew, and formed the 
nucleus of a great sand bar that stopped up the port of 
Stavoren and ended its prosperity. To this day, the 
bar is called the Vrouwen-sand. 

What a chain of calamities — merited and unmerited, 

47 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

according to tradition — forms the history of the 
Zuyder Zee ; merited or not, the Dutch nation has suf- 
fered a scourge of fire and sword and sack sufficient 
to expiate any sin. Perhaps we shall live to see the 
day when the Zuyder Zee has been reclaimed, and its 
"dead cities" — revived and flourishing — have had their 
haunting ghosts laid forever. 

"Landsakes!" said Mater, quite subdued by this 
flood of information, "to think we are below sea level 
half the time. Why, it gives me the creeps !" 

"Yes, milady," answered the chauffeur, "there vas 
once a time ven a liddle insect dat ate de vood of de 
dikes made us more afraid den all the armees of Spain ; 
ve Hollanders need to vork and vatch, for de sea 
never sleeps." After this bit of real eloquence, he was 
silent and thoughtful. 

To get accustomed to the sight of boats with sails 
set, apparently crossing distant meadows, was difficult ; 
but a country originally destined for the bottom of the 
sea might be expected to furnish nautical paradoxes. 
Our acquaintance with rounded bridges over canals 
was renewed in the course of this journey; the road- 
way went up a slight incline to the bridge level, then 
down the other side — giving the impression of a huge 
American thank-you-ma'am without its uncomfortable 
jolt. 

We enjoyed the occasional bursts of high speed a 
clear path beside the fields permitted. While we were 
pausing to view some point of interest a big limousine 
passed ; for a moment all felt mortified, but our chauf- 
feur said, with an air of great contempt: "Oh, dat's 
only a 'Adler.' Ve soon catch up to heem." 

"That's only an Adler," we echoed, with the air of 
one to the manner born. And, sure enough, we soon 
passed the despised Adler and left it far behind. 

48 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

At first, nervousness about meeting horses bothered 
us, for we had been "the other fellow" too often not 
to dread the possibility of causing a runaway ; but the 
actions of these sedate quadrupeds reassured us. Per- 
haps one would raise his nose a trifle higher, or another 
carry his high collar still more proudly and jingle his 
harness impatiently, as if to say, "you smelly, flyaway 
things may make a great to-do, but you'll never equal 
a real horse like me;" beyond this they took no 
notice of us. One Young Lady insists they actually 
smiled at us in a superior sort of way, but I should 
hardly care to carry my assertion that far. 

Before long, ruins of an ancient fort came into sight. 
Then the towering nave and fine fantastic broachspire 
of St. Bavo loomed against the sky. 

"Here is dear old Haarlem, at last," cried Mater, 
with the proprietary interest of one who had long 
looked forward to visiting a place. 

"Huh, anybody would think you'd known it all your 
life," remarked the Youth. 

"Maybe I haven't, but perhaps my ancestors did, and 
yours too, if I may say so." 

For reasons of expediency our chauffeur did not 
take us through Spaarnewouder Poort, the only re- 
maining city gate, but, after crossing the river Spaarne 
with its market quays, drove along a shady street 
where a flower market was in progress. Haarlem is 
the renowned city of flowers and, since we were too 
late for the gay fields of tulips, hyacinths, crocuses and 
so on, we were grateful to be given at least a glimpse 
of some of the flowers. "This is the home of 'Sem- 
per Augustus,' " remarked Pater, "and 'Admiral Lief- 
kens.' " 

In the seventeenth century, the Dutch began a tulip- 
bulb speculation that makes our Wall Street an inno- 

49 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

cent playground by comparison ; one speculator is said 
to have cleared 68,000 florins in a few months by the 
sale of bulbs or roots; one town, 10,000,000 florins in 
a year. Fabulous prices were paid for bulbs of rare 
varieties; a single Semper Augustus bulb brought 
13,000 florins, and one of the Admiral Lief kens 4,500. 
Eventually the government intervened, and so the bub- 
ble burst, carrying many down to ruin. 

Following a narrow, winding street and dodging 
drays and pushcarts, the auto emerged on the square 
in front of the town hall — originally a palace of the 
counts of Holland, dating from 1520; it is not com- 
parable with the town halls at Leyden or Middleburg, 
for even the restoration, in 1620, did not make it very 
attractive, though the wing on the Zylestraat (added a 
few years later) is a quite commendable building. 
Access to the collections is not permitted before ten 
o'clock, so we set about exploring the town. 

The Groote Markt is a good center for this pur- 
pose. Opposite the town hall rises St. Bavo (the 
Groote Kerk) which, while its design may be open to 
criticism, is certainly an imposing church, with a nave 
overshadowing the whole market place. 

Near the middle of the square is a statue of Lorenz 
Coster (Laurence the Sexton) whom you will vener- 
ate — if you are Dutch — as the inventor of printing. 
Otherwise, you may allow the claim of Germany's 
Gutenberg to this same distinction ; and if you chance 
to consult your guidebook, Coster's claim will vanish 
into thin air in the face of Baedeker's ponderous, crush- 
ing arguments. However, "here's to mesilf and the 
both of thim," as the Irishman said. 

Opposite St. Bavo's is the Vleeschhal, or meat mar- 
ket, said to be the quaintest brick-and-stone building 
in all Holland. Certainly it is an admirable exponent 

E^O 




amersfooet: koppel port. {F. 70.) 




HAARLEM: TOWN HALL. (P. 50.) 




HAARLEM; \ LEESCHilAL. (P. 50.) 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

of Dutch style. This structure owns to the age of 
three-hundred and six years and, in spite of the profu- 
sion and restlessness of ornamentation, is of strong de- 
sign. Never, in anyone's wildest guess, would it have 
been a meat market; nor, indeed, should it have been. 
St. Bavo has not yet been stripped of the little shops 
clustering along its side, like mud swallows' nests — if 
you will permit a simile upside down — under the eaves 
of a farmhouse; these shops, while detracting from its 
architecture, add charm and carry one back to the Mid- 
dle Ages far faster than could a monumental environ- 
ment. A visitor might almost imagine himself enter- 
ing one of them when, after banging a brass knocker, 
he slips through a little, green door into the sacristan's 
house on the south side of the choir. The bare, white- 
v/ashed interior — frequent in Dutch churches and, in 
a measure, disappointing — imparts a grave, austere 
character, and emphasizes the height of the building; 
while the great, round columns carrying its vaulting 
add much to this dignity. Observing some recently 
uncovered, original color-decorations upon these pil- 
lars, one is inclined to think a place of worship as well 
off, perhaps, without such rich decorative schemes; 
though to include stained glass in this condemnation 
would be extreme, as it seems essentially structural 
and, when well executed, possesses individual solemn- 
ity. The fanciful details of the fine choir screen and 
stalls of St. Bavo's are very interesting, but the monu- 
ments, except one in memory of Conrad, engineer of 
the Katwyk locks, are not worth noticing. The Youth's 
sharp eyes discovered models of ships suspended from 
some of the arches — hung there in 1668 to replace even 
older models presented by the Dutch-Swedish Trading 
Company — and, for a country with Holland's history, 
they appeared appropriate even in a church. While 

51 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

fully as odd, they seemed prettier and more artistic 
than the "sacred codfish" of the Boston tate House. 

It transpired afterward that, for a fee of thirteen 
florins, we might have enjoyed a private organ recital. 
What a pity to have missed it ! In that vast edifice it 
could hardly fail to produce a splendid and lasting im- 
pression. 

Outside, in the merry sunshine, a valuable ally in 
provoking everyone to easy-going good humor, a trap 
was set for the unwary. A rummage sale was in prog- 
ress along the curb, and most of the sidewalk was cov- 
ered with old furniture, old china, andirons, brass 
candlesticks, warming-pans, and other artful acces- 
sories of a dealer in antiques. The ladies were en- 
chanted, and even Scoffy and the Youth gave unmis- 
takable signs of yielding to temptation; all Pater's 
hard-earned diplomacy was required to prevent the 
day's program from being completely ignored in the 
face of such tempting bait. This street leads past the 
Teyler Museum to the Kaas Markt on the banks of 
the Spaarne. The end house is the indispensable 
cheese weigh-house, a nice old building, though not un- 
usually quaint. On the Groote Markt opposite the 
Vleeschhal is an old town hall, said to antedate the 
meat market — ^but it has been quite extensively re- 
modeled. 

We concluded our visit by inspecting the interior of 
the present town hall which contains a fine collection 
of paintings, notably those by Frans Hals, who is often 
considered, next to Rembrandt, the greatest Dutch 
painter. Frans Hals was of Haarlem parentage and 
lived and worked in Haarlem, though not born there. 

Little exists to remind us of Haarlem's melancholy 
part in the Dutch war of independence; old ramparts 
have been leveled and converted into promenades and 

52 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

only one city gate stands to recall her desperate, heroic, 
seven-months' defense against the flower of the Span- 
ish army, and the horrible massacre that followed. 
Readers of Rider Haggard's "Lysbeth" will probably 
recall the story of this siege. Pater was on his good 
behavior, not once referring to New York's Harlem in 
Scoffy's presence, though his eye twitched spasmodi- 
cally when the subject of Bloemendaal was broached; 
we had spoken of going north a few miles to the vil- 
lage of Bloemendaal, purely out of regard for our old 
village of Bloomingdale in New York City and in 
memory of the Boulevard, now Broadway, but once 
Bloomingdale Road. Bloemendaal, oddly enough, 
maintains a large lunatic asylum as did its New York 
cousin for many years, but as our guidebook promised 
nothing better than the ruins of the old Brederode 
chateau, we cut it out of our program and headed 
south toward Leiden (Leyden). Just beyond Haar- 
lem is the Haarlemmer Hout, a piece of fine old forest 
with many beech and lime-tree avenues. 

Holland justly boasts of having some of the most 
beautiful motor roads in the world ; broad, shady ave- 
nues with never a rut nor a hole are paved with clinker 
brick on edge, which eliminate all dust or mud and, 
while perfectly smooth to ride upon, give a nonskid- 
ding grip to the tires in any weather. The way is al- 
most invariably shady, even on the smaller dirt roads 
which, in lieu of pavement, have a narrow brick strip 
in the middle for horses to trot upon. 

We all admired the trees and woods of this region, 
for our way was lined with many beautiful private 
parks. Cool, fragrant groves hid the houses and we 
longed to pause, cross the still dewy grass, and pene- 
trate those mysterious, leafy bowers ; feeling sure there 
would be no house at all, only a mischievous faun or 

53 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

two, or a startled woodland nymph. Indeed, these 
groves are said to be part of the original forest; look- 
ing at the trees' huge moss-covered boles, one's mind 
traveled back easily to days when this smiling country 
was a huge "Dismal Swamp" — a tangled morass with 
but few spots of solid ground tenable for the wild 
beasts and wilder men ; involuntarily came the thought 
of pagan rites, and Druid sacrifices, and the horrid 
blood-offerings of the Baddahuenna Wood on the 
shores of the vanished Lake Flevo, not many miles 
east. 

Bound for Leyden, the car sped through Benne- 
broek, Hillegon, Lisse, and other villages. A pecu- 
liar phenomenon heralded the approach to every one — 
a veritable "snowstorm" of what seemed to be feath- 
ers. As noon arrived, our theory that the Dutch 
housewives were airing bedding became untenable; 
whether the season for beating and remaking feather- 
beds was at hand or whether live-goose feathers were 
ripe and being plucked, we could not determine; and 
our chauffeur's information or English seemed to fail 
him in this emergency. 

The road now had a trekvaart alongside — a sort of 
steam tramway — which connects these small towns and 
brings them in touch with Haarlem and Leiden. The 
trains were cumbrous affairs, two or three cars with a 
dummy engine, and achieved no greater speed than ten 
or twelve miles per hour. To the evident disgust of 
the passengers, our automobile often left them behind, 
cutting across in front of the train with the noncha- 
lance due to superior equipment. We passed many a 
train that day, heaping insult upon insult by the mock- 
ing call of our bugle and the smiles on our faces as we 
swept proudly onward. Later in the day the trekvaart 
took occasion to vent its accumulated spleen upon us in 

54 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

one grand coup de main, as you shall see. We then 
felt duly humiliated, and "it," no doubt, correspond- 
ingly elated., The tracks of these tramways must be 
of standard gauge, for the regulation freight cars — 
small enough, to be sure, to American eyes — are run 
upon them. In several villages, merchants could be 
seen unloading freight brought from the main railroad 
to their very doors. 

But the mode of traffic that afforded endless amuse- 
ment was what Scoffy called the "dog express." You 
may see these dog wagons all over Holland — little 
three-wheeled vans shaped like a delivery boy's cov- 
ered pushcart, usually drawn by two dogs resembling 
small mastiffs; the driver always sits on the cart, and 
as he is bowled along the smooth road behind his 
spanking trotters, the thought of cruelty to animals 
never occurs to you. It would seem that dogs do not 
answer to the rein nor even to the "haw" and "gee" to 
which oxen may be broken, for each cart is provided 
with guiding handles like those of a plow. At the first 
sound of our bugle the "dog man" hopped from his 
perch with great alacrity and guided his charges to 
the side of the road ; maybe, simply fear of a runaway 
caused him to act so promptly. A runaway horse is 
trouble enough, but runaway dogs might seek the fields 
and be lost altogether; moreover, dogs not afraid of 
an auto might chase it — an equal calamity for the 
owner of canine steeds. 

Tiny, gaily painted houses often lined the way. 
Where the road followed a small canal, houses lying 
on its further side had, each, a drawbridge like a feudal 
castle. Occupants leave their wooden shoes outside 
the door, and these rows of papa shoes, big-sister and 
little-baby shoes, etc., furnished mute announcement 
that their owners were within: — "Obviating the ne- 

55 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

cessity of sending out at-home cards, and all that sort 
of rot, don't you know," said Scoffy. 

It was gratifying to meet everywhere the peasant 
dress; not as distinctive as in Volendam and Marken, 
to be sure, but picturesque and instructive. The re- 
served men and neat, comely women, the grave, tow- 
headed youngsters — who occasionally broke into un- 
expected bursts of mischief — made a happy picture of 
the Hollanders' home life. Strange traffic on land and 
water, strange buildings, strange scenes and customs 
claimed our attention constantly. Without expatiat- 
ing further, let me say that we were seeing the real 
Holland as never before — and as we had never before 
seen any foreign country. 

Presently, another leg of our course was accom- 
plished in the approach to Leyden. Entering from the 
north and traversing devious highways and byways — 
twice crossing the Rhine, which flows through the city 
in the guise of several canals — the chauffeur drove into 
Breede Straat, containing many of the principal points 
of interest. 

There is the Museum Van Oudheden, housing ex- 
tensive collections of Egyptian, Greek and Roman an- 
tiquities. There is the fine Gemeendlandshuis van 
Rijnland, attributed to the famous architect, Lieven de 
Key, but recently restored. A little further on comes 
the stadhuis, perhaps one of the finest examples of 
Dutch style at the close of the sixteenth century. 
Though on a narrow street, its stairway forms a rather 
good approach, and the fantastic gables remind one of 
England's Jacobean style without its crudeness and 
monotony of design. The side entrance, to the north, 
recalls the terrible siege of 1 573-1 574 in the following 
chronogram : 

56 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

"Nae zWarte hVnger-noot 
gebraCht had tot de toot 
binaest zes-dVIzent MensChen: 
aL'st god den heer Verdroot 
gaf hi Vns Weder broot 
zo VeeL WI CVnsten WensChen." 

This, freely translated, means — a black famine had 
brought death to most six thousand people, when God 
the Lord was grieved, and gave us bread again, as 
much as we could wish. In this writing ( W's counted 
as two V's) the capitals record the date, and the num- 
ber of letters, the number of days the uninterrupted 
siege lasted — one hundred and thirty-one. George 
Ebers, in "The Burgomaster's Wife," draws a rather 
mild picture. There was comparatively little fighting 
owing to the town's known lack of supplies, but on 
this account famine and pestilence were the more hor- 
rible. This siege was as cruel, heartbreaking and dec- 
imating as the siege of Haarlem, but had a happier 
ending; for William the Silent pierced the dikes, 
flooded the country and brought a fleet to rescue Ley- 
den's gallant defenders — thus averting the impending 
sack and massacre. 

At the beginning of things, so to speak, the Nether- 
lands were the home of Celts (dwelling in what is now 
Belgium) and of various German tribes such as the 
Batavians and Frisians. Charlemagne, continuing the 
work of his predecessors, finally conquered them. 
When his empire was divided among his three grand- 
sons, nearly all the Netherlands lay in the middle divi- 
sion that fell to Lothar (Lothaire) ; with the death of 
Lothar and of his sons this portion was divided be- 
tween Lothar's brothers : King Ludwig, the German, 
taking Friesland and Lotharingia (Lorraine), and 
King Charles the Bald, Burgundy and Provence. 

hi 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The duke of Lotharingia's power declined, and thus 
there arose in his domain various strong counties and 
duchies such as Flanders, Guelders, Brabant, Holland, 
Zeeland, Hainault, and the bishopric of Utrecht. As 
Lotharingia waned Burgundy waxed powerful until, 
in the fifteenth century, its duke, Charles the Bold, was 
one of the leading princes of Europe; bit by bit — by 
purchase, by inheritance, and in devious other conven- 
ient ways — the bulk of those northern lands was ac- 
quired by Burgundy, and when Maximilian of Austria 
married the heiress of Charles the Bold, the Nether- 
lands went to the house of Hapsburg. This interest- 
ing match forms the basis of Charles Major's "Yo- 
landa." 

Maximilian of Hapsburg, archduke of Austria, was 
elected emperor of the Holy Roman Empire; his son 
Philip, duke of Burgundy, married the heiress of Fer- 
dinand and Isabella, and their son, Charles I of Spain, 
was elected to the imperial throne as Charles V. 
Through the original Lotharingia being part of the 
empire, through Burgundy as subsequent owner, and 
finally as elected emperor — Charles V certainly united 
in his person all claims to the Netherlands. Indeed, 
he was born here — in Ghent — and always had a strong 
liking for the people. 

Nevertheless Charles V was really the first to plant 
the Inquisition in the Netherlands, and to re-establish 
the Council of Mechlin to override civic rights. It ir- 
ritated him to have so many separate towns, counties, 
provinces, and the like, each obstinately insisting upon 
special charters and privileges, each claiming sufficient 
religious freedom to be dabbling in strange philoso- 
phies and beliefs ; to grind down the Netherlands into 
a homogeneous whole he designed these two terrible 
weapons against religious and political liberty. Charles 

58 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

was not a fanatic ; ruler of unusually great possessions, 
he was striving to weld together an empire mightier 
than Charlemagne's. Though the Church claimed 
many thousand victims and punishment for any resist- 
ance was swift and severe, he was far too busy to give 
subjection of the Netherlands undivided personal at- 
tention so long as her millions of revenue flowed into 
his coffers with comparative steadiness. Ceding the 
Netherlands to his son (Philip II of Spain) put a very 
different face upon the matter. Not only was Philip 
a fanatic sworn to uphold the Church and the Inquisi- 
tion, but disappointment in failing to receive the entire 
empire from his father determined him to exploit the 
financial resources of the Netherlands to the very limit. 
His chosen instrument for attaining these ends was the 
duke of Alva, whom he appointed "captain-general." 

This war of the Inquisition against Dutch independ- 
ence was a titanic struggle — a record of murder, sack, 
rapine, massacre. The list of innocent, unarmed peo- 
ple dehberately slaughtered stands almost unequaled 
in the annals of history. 

When condemning and killing heretics by hundreds 
did not further the plans of bloody Alva with the 
wished-for speed, he decided to waste no more time on 
individual condemnation proceedings and, through his 
royal master, laid the matter before the Inquisition. 
The Holy Office declared all the inhabitants of the 
Netherlands condemned to death as heretics. That 
the extermination of this entire people was not accom- 
plished, once seemed to hinge, one might almost say, 
on the mere fact that the prisons would not hold them 
all and that the arms of the executioners were subject 
to the limitations of physical endurance. 

On occasions where the Dutch found opportunity to 
entrench and defend themselves, the struggle made the 

59 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

proverb "When Greek meets Greek" seem pointless. 
Alva mustered the pick of the Spanish army ; hardened 
veterans, and professional fighters — men who loved 
fighting for fighting's sake, who would forego meat, 
drink and sleep rather than be cheated of a battle ; per- 
fectly armed and equipped, they were apparently in- 
vincible. Against this the Dutch mustered an unusual 
natural resource, an indomitable grit, and an irrepres- 
sible disinclination to stay beaten no matter what 
the odds or how great the reverse. They were fight- 
ing for their homes, for their wives and children. The 
women — active, strong, courageous, and by no means 
to be despised as adversaries — fought side by side with 
the men; moreover, all were caught like rats in a 
trap and, foredoomed, faced the plain alternative of a 
quick death of their own choosing, as against the 
torture and atrocities of their enemies' devising. Yet 
the odds would have been against them but for one 
fact never suspected by the enemy until he learned 
it to his cost. The Hollanders came of a race that for 
untold centuries had been engaged in sustaining a pre- 
carious existence by endless battle with the sea; their 
lifelong training in cheerfully subsisting in the face 
of instant destruction, and the tireless energy and un- 
failing ingenuity necessary to this unequal struggle, 
had bred a remarkable resource and a power to sur- 
mount all obstacles. 

The sea never eats nor drinks nor sleeps nor tires. 
To them it proved a ruthless enemy yet an unfailing 
teacher. When you consider that most of Holland 
was wrested from the grasp of the sea, and that the 
Dutch — surpassing Canute — was the only nation to 
call a halt to the "resistless" waters and say, "thus far 
shalt thou come and no farther," you get an inkling 
of the vital strength which enabled them to survive 
even the full force of the Inquisition. 

60 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

The Spaniards fought with the usual arms and in 
most approved fashion. The Dutch fought with tar 
and pitch, scalding water and boiling oil ; fought half- 
dead with hunger, half-fainting with fatigue; they 
fought in ships on their lakes and seas, fought under- 
ground in mines and countermines; they fought in 
water up to their necks, and on the ice on skates. 
When none of these resources would avail to drive the 
Spaniards out they fell back on their last, great re- 
source — they broke the dikes and loosed the floods of 
that watery monster which had required centuries to 
bind. The Spanish soldiery had persisted in the face 
of all this unusual warfare and unprecedented opposi- 
tion, but breaking the dikes was the last straw, and 
when, to cap this climax, a new Spanish leader made 
a few vital mistakes regarding "no pay" and "short 
rations," they relinquished Alva's great fight and be- 
gan foraging for themselves along the lines of least 
resistance. The sea raised Leyden's siege, and the 
threat of letting loose the sea raised the siege of Alk- 
maar, north of Haarlem. These events, following the 
seizure of Briel by the "water-beggars" and the naval 
victory over Admiral Bossu, determined the downfall 
of the Spanish invaders and the independence of the 
Dutch. 

Such are the dark pages in the history of this sunny, 
smiling country. No wonder the men look serious and 
preoccupied ; no wonder even little children often seem 
grave and thoughtful. 

It was in memory of the gallant defense of Leyden, 
some say as a reward therefor, that the university of 
Leyden was founded. Neither handsome nor pictur- 
esque in appearance, those buildings of the old Jacobin 
nunnery have had a memorable history, for some of the 
greatest scholars of bygone days either studied or 

6i 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

taught there; even now its schools of medicine and 
natural science are of more than national repute. 

Van der Werf Park in the southern part of the town 
occupies a section devastated, in 1807, by the explosion 
of a powder-ship, and contains a statue of Burgomas- 
ter Van der Werf who led the gallant defenders in that 
memorable siege of .1574. Almost directly behind the 
stadhuis is De Burcht (the Castle), a curious old 
structure of a foundation antedating the tenth century, 
while the mound upon which it is erected is said to be 
the work of Hengist. 

We did not linger in Leyden. The ride in the fresh 
air, and our mental and bodily activities had provoked 
a rousing appetite that urged us to push on to Utrecht, 
the stop selected for our midday meal. 

Eastward out of Leyden the road followed what ap- 
peared to be a great canal, which our chauffeur said 
was nothing else than the Old Rhine. Had he traveled 
west instead of east, a few miles would have brought 
us to Katwyk-an-Zee, where the Old Rhine once sought 
a desultory exit to the North Sea ; beaten back at high 
tide it was wont to flood the countryside for miles 
around. In the ninth century a great storm closed the 
outlet entirely, but Engineer Conrad installed pumps 
to drain the marshes, confined the river with dikes, and 
built great locks that keep out the sea at high tide yet 
allow the river's waters to escape when the tide is low. 

The trip along the Rhine was ideal. Queer craft 
upon the water drew our eyes on one side, while life 
ashore as persistently demanded our attention on the 
other. Some of the towns are beautifully situated, 
and their fine trees called forth unending admiration. 
Several villages were gaily decorated with flags and 
bunting, "in honor of our visit," Pater declared. We 
learned that it was for some church festival. 

62 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

The old town of Woerden on the Rijn (Rhine) was 
twice cruelly plundered by the French, and twice re- 
occupied by the Dutch ; at its entrance stand remains of 
a castle, once the seat of the lords of Woerden and 
now a warehouse. The fortifications have been lev- 
eled. 

Near Harmelen two stylish turnouts approached 
us, drawn by spirited horses that cut a few capers 
at the sight of our car. Pater wondered whether, by 
any chance, they hailed from the ancient chateau Ter 
Ilaar, near by, which has recently been rebuilt by some 
rich baron. In the pleasure of the ride, hunger was 
forgotten and with surprise we saw the venerable town 
of Utrecht rise before us. 

" 'Friends, Romans, countrymen,' and all others 
present," declaimed Pater, " 'lend me your ears.' Here 
is what remains of ancient, powerful Utrecht — the 
Roman Trajectum ad Rhenum (ford of the Rhine) and 
great 'City of Churches' of the Middle Ages; Dago- 
bert, king of the Franks, founded Utrecht's first church 
tv/elve centuries ago, and today this is the last strong- 
hold of the Dutch Catholics. The archbishops of 
Utrecht were among the most powerful prelates of the 
Middle Ages — powerful, in a temporal sense, and they 
had their fingers in many pies they would have to es- 
chew, nowadays, as of earth entirely too earthly. 

"At Utrecht was signed the declaration of independ- 
ence, so to speak, of the Netherland provinces of Hol- 
land, Zeeland, Utrecht, Guelders, Over-Issel, Friesland 
and Groningen. It was drafted in the hall of the Acad- 
emy of Utrecht in the presence of Count John of Nas- 
sau — brother of poor William the Silent, that Wash- 
ington of Dutch independence who might have seen 
the fruition of his life's long struggle had not the hand 
of an assassin laid him low. These northern provinces 

63 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

of the Netherlands form the Holland of today, and the 
southern provinces (such as Flanders and Brabant) 
which had not achieved independence, eventually be- 
came modern Belgium. The states-general assembled 
at Utrecht until the seat of government was trans- 
ferred to The Hague; in 171 3 was signed the peace 
which closed the War of the Spanish Succession. Do 
any of you recall the peace of Utrecht ? Children, you 
should know these things ; do none of you learn history 
nowadays ?" 

All felt the implied rebuke. 

"Yes, yes," said Scoffy, the incorrigible. "The 
name has a familiar sound. I remember — " and, hav- 
ing won his audience, he slyly continued, "I remember 
New Utrecht, out on Long Island beyond the Flatbush 
section of Brooklyn. Often when a boy, I wandered 
there past fertile fields and old Dutch farmhouses. 
Since then, bold speculators have cut up those fair 
fields into building lots, and enterprising wights have 
covered them with cheap houses. Mea culpa, mea 
culpa !" The laughter greeting Pater's surprise at this 
sally almost caused the chauffeur to drive into the 
Stads Buiten gracht, but we crossed the bridge, safely, 
into Utrecht. 

It is interesting to note that although Brooklyn's 
name appears on some old English surveys as Brook- 
lands — rather than Breukelen, the Dutch name many 
would ascribe to it — the settlement was, in many ways, 
more typically Dutch than either Harlem or Bloom- 
ingdale. Anyone who, like the author, was born and 
brought up in Brooklyn and lived there many years, 
will testify that here is a city preserving much of the 
serene, unchanging atmosphere Americans admire so 
greatly in Holland, though they decry it at home — a 
city where it is possible to live in peace and comfort and 

64 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

even to know one's neighbors. A recent visit to the 
place of the author's birth showed that its environment 
had remained absolutely unchanged for more than a 
generation, and one member of the family, having no 
taste for the noise and dirt and bustle of Manhattan, 
moved back near the old home and was able to renew 
the associations and friendships of childhood's days. 
Only a few years ago, admirers of Holland might have 
seen an old Dutch farmhouse standing on Fulton 
Street opposite Arlington Place, in the very center of 
Brooklyn ; in fact, it is there today, though lost to sight 
behind a modern store-front. 

Our chauffeur had calculated on cutting across the 
Vredenburg — the site of the castle built by Emperor 
Charles V when he obtained the temporal power of 
Utrecht — ^but the way was barred, so he had to retrace 
his course and drive completely around the square. 
A horsefair, or horse market, was in progress, and it 
was necessary to drive quite gingerly to avoid the 
crowds of bidders and the many young horses. Finally 
he gained the upper Oude-gracht which contains two 
interesting structures : the Huis Oudaen — now a home 
for the aged — a fine patrician dwelling of the four- 
teenth century, and the Rijks Munt, almost opposite, 
where all the money for Holland and her East Indian 
colonies is coined. Following the Oude-gracht as far 
as the stadhuis, the way was again blocked, this time 
by street repairs; so our driver was obliged to cross 
the gracht and make his way to the Hotel Pays-Bas by 
quite a circuitous route. 

"It's a good thing that our chauffeur knows his 
way," said Mater, "else we might waste an hour in 
driving through these curly streets." 

The hotel is charmingly located on the side of a 
square called St. Jan's Kerkhof, In the middle of which 

65 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

stands, embowered in trees, the old Romanesque St. 
Jan's Kerk with its late Gothic choir. This was our 
first example of two greatly contrasting styles of archi- 
tecture in one building. From the name of the square 
we judged it might have been the original cemetery. 
Doubtless many a cherished churchyard, obliged to 
give way before the press of growing life in these old 
towns, has thus, though lost to sight in a modern 
square, continued to live in the memory of the people. 

Of the many strange churches we saw, the Dom 
(cathedral) of St. Martin's in Utrecht was perhaps 
the strangest. It has no nave ; there is a fine old choir, 
and a lofty tower, and between them a gap — a gap as 
conspicuous and irritating as one caused by missing 
front teeth in the mouth of a pretty girl. No tempo- 
rary gap either, this of St. Martin's; for it consists 
of a square adorned with a statue of Count John of 
Nassau, and a thriving trolley-line runs between the 
choir and the tower. Carlisle cathedral in England 
has no nave, beyond a Norman fragment, but is at 
least a continuous building. 

Going in quest of the sacristan, Pater led us through 
the old cloisters which form a public thoroughfare. 
No one visiting Utrecht should miss them, for they are 
very handsome and as venerable in appearance, if not 
as extensive, as those of Canterbury cathedral. We 
could not find the sacristan so, being assured the church 
was open, we began the inspection of its interior with- 
out a guide; stationary pews, in place of chairs, may 
be a source of comfort to the congregation, but they 
impede the movements of the sightseer. The choir of 
St. Martin's proved this, for one may, here, no longer 
stroll about at will, nose in the air and eyes busy with 
roofs, capitals, monuments and windows. Nor was it 
easy to find in the stone floor, the eagles marking the 

66 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

resting place of the hearts of Emperors Conrad II and 
Henry V who died in Utrecht. The fourteenth cen- 
tury tomb of Bishop Guy of Hainault was duly in- 
spected, as were several others, but by that time our 
narrow circuitous paths among the pews were dampen- 
ing all enthusiasm, and by common consent we made 
for the exit. 

"This was once one of the largest and finest churches 
in the Netherlands," said Pater, "and its tower affords 
a view of nearly all Holland and much of Guelders and 
North Brabant." The tower, in course of renovation, 
was covered with scaffolding and, as this added to the 
customary difficulties of such an ascent, we decided to 
rest content with seeing all Holland from our own pro- 
per sphere rather than from the bird's point of view. 
Adjoining the cloisters on the south stands the univer- 
sity; its aula was originally the chapter-house of the 
cathedral. 

The Archiepiscopal Museum held no special attrac- 
tion since none of us was in the mood for early relig- 
ious art. But we did wish to see the Lodge of the 
Teutonic Order, across the way; which pleasure, for 
lack of previous written application to the secretary, 
we were obliged to forego. 

Having given the Youth due time for the serious 
question of selecting souvenir postcards, and finding 
our car in readiness, there was no reason to delay re- 
sumption of the journey. Thanks to unusual dexter- 
ity, our chauffeur managed to take us past the old 
"pope's house" and thence out on to the Maliebaan. 

The Young Ladies were looking for a Germanic 
sacrificial stone, said to have been thrown by the devil 
across a newly dug canal in derision of its width. 
Their informant vouchsafed the further information 
that the stone is now chained to a house — an unwise 

67 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

precaution, since his sulphurous majesty might be 
tempted to throw it back again, house and all, in 
derision of the chain. But, though we subjected even 
the most respectable looking houses to close scrutiny 
we got no glimpse of a chained stone nor of any other 
deviltry. 

Crossing the Singel Gracht we noted its sharp pro- 
jecting angles indicative, like the Singels of Amster- 
dam and Leyden, of former bastions. The ramparts, 
according to prevailing custom, have been leveled and 
converted into pleasant promenades. 

The Maliebaan, that celebrated triple avenue of lime 
trees, spared at the express command of Louis XIV 
when the French troops were devastating Utrecht, 
was a disappointment. As in the parades of some 
Grand Army Posts, where boys carry the trappings 
of their parents, there was too much young growth to 
render the sight impressive, Louis might have saved 
himself the trouble. But perhaps he was wise, and 
sought to avert an unpleasant prospect such as con- 
fronted French prisoners of 1870, in Berlin, when they 
were directed to replant the Grunewald cut down by 
Napoleon I. 

After this detour we were soon back upon the road 
to Amersfoort. The Old Rhine branches at Utrecht, 
the north branch being known as Vecht. Our road 
took us northeast, while the Rhine followed a south- 
flows westward, almost parallel with the Neder Rijn, 
At Wyk there is another division, the main river 
(above and to the east of Wyk), being called the 
Neder Rijn, while below Wyk, to the west, it be- 
comes the Lek which flows Into the Maas near Rotter- 
dam. If you follow the Neder Rijn eastward up- 
stream, to the point where it becomes the real "father" 
Rhine; you find another division, and the branch which 

68 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

flows westward, almost parallel with the Neder Rijn, 
is the Waal. The Waal has the ill luck, further 
downstream, to join the Maas, whereupon the joint 
river immediately becomes the Merwede. But this is 
by no means final, as the stream divides again and be- 
comes respectively the Maas and Oude Maas. Indeed, 
the Maas and the Waal came perilously near joining 
once before, just east of the town of Bommell. Had 
that happened, the complicated relationship in the 
Rhine family could probably be solved only by differ- 
ential calculus. 

Such a fuss and pother to inflict upon a quiet, well- 
behaved river which has come all the way from Lake 
Constance and, having done its plain duty in supplying 
falls and rapids, in turning mill wheels, and carrying 
pleasure-craft and cargoes, desires nothing better than 
to get to sea as quickly and quietly as possible. It 
requires no great stretch of imagination to believe 
that only an expert can tell the name of a stream in 
Holland; or, having determined it is a river and not 
some canal, can affirm it really is that river — not some 
other masquerading under a new name. 

The way to Amersfoort was enlivened by the sight 
of many peasants driving home with led horses pur- 
chased at the horsefair. These young and skittish 
creatures, their tails tied up in bright red wrappings, 
still carried conspicuous numbers upon their glossy 
backs. Our chauffeur gave them a wide berth, hav- 
ing no wish to receive the imprint of iron-shod hoofs 
either on his person or on the varnish of his car, but 
nothing untov/ard happened and the farmers con- 
templated his extreme caution with a smile of good- 
natured irony. 

Amersfoort is noted principally for its medieval 
gates and for its fine old tower of St. Mary's, which 

69 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

remained intact when, towards the end of the eight- 
eenth century, a powder explosion destroyed the 
church. We got a very pleasing view of it across a 
gracht — or was it, perhaps, the river Eem; no expert 
was present to decide the question. We were not 
sufficiently fortunate to hear the carillon, reputed to 
be very sweet. 

The town gates, especially the water gate (Koppel- 
Poort), proved interesting enough although, as Pater 
remarked, there was "too much plain, clean, brick 
wall" about the latter to permit of its looking pictur- 
esque. 

Beyond Utrecht the country had appeared bare and 
uninteresting, but near Amersfoort we could actually 
see hills in the distance. Hills in Holland ! Think of 
it ! "Huh, I'd rather live here than in the 'flats,' even 
if I were a Dutchman, and I guess that other people 
would, too," remarked the Youth. Nor was he wrong 
in his conjecture, for both Baarn and Hilversum 
abound in handsome villas of rich city people; 
Baarnsche Bosch, near by, is a fine piece of woods and 
the surrounding drives are attractive. 

Nearing a crossroad partially obscured by trees our 
chauffeur slowed down, took the crossing rather care- 
fully, and answered the interrogation on our faces by 
pointing out a monument at the roadside where a man 
was killed in a motor crash. Pater thought it might 
have a beneficial effect were this idea followed in the 
United States, though people slowed down only to ad- 
mire the monument. 

Soestdyke, a palace belonging to the crown, situ- 
ated near the Baarnsche Bosch, was presented by the 
Diet of 1816 to the Prince of Orange in appreciation 
of his gallant conduct at the battle of Waterloo. The 
flag indicated the presence of royalty, but we did not 

70 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

stop to "leave cards," as Mater suggested, nor even to 
go through the park, open to the pubHc. The cross- 
roads in Baarn again called for praise of the beautiful 
trees, shading the green like the great old elms of a 
New England village.. Further along, we passed a 
road labeled "closed to motors" — the first of its kind 
we had met. Presently the car was running along- 
side a huge dike and, through occasional gaps giving 
access to the fields beyond, we could see a large polder 
and catch a glimpse of the Zuyder Zee. 

Hilversum has a castle at the end of a wooded 
ridge, a situation that must afford a clear sweep across 
the sea and much of the surrounding country ; whether 
the structure should be classed as ancient or modern 
was not apparent — a lack of certainty sorely trying to 
the Young Ladies, who jealously saved their admira- 
tion for buildings having undeniable claims to antiq- 
uity. 

Naarden, an old fortified town preserved on ancient 
lines, is very interesting, for the outer moat, outer de- 
fenses, the inner moat and inner line of defenses, the 
old city gates, and both ramparts remain; moreover, 
it is still a military post. These structures as they stand 
today are not part of the original Naarden, which 
was practically razed in 1572. The whole history of 
Spanish oppression holds scarcely a single instance to 
equal the sack of Naarden — I hardly care to call it 
this, for sack, from long usage in connection with the 
capture of a town, has grown to suggest some idea of 
previous resistance. There was no resistanca here; 
the townspeople invited their prospective murderers 
to table and served them with their best. 

It appears Naarden had received a summons to sur- 
render and had turned back the Spanish emissaries 
with a proud refusal. Unfortunately, a lunatic dis- 

71 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

charged a culverin at the departing Spaniards and 
when these carried back a report of the matter to Don 
Frederic, son of bloody Alva, he resolved to make an 
example of Naarden. Knowing the fiendish cruelty 
exercised in ordinary operations for the subjection of 
Holland, you may imagine what 'making an example" 
might imply. Meantime, in response to repeated 
promises of immunity, the town hastened to surrender, 
hoping by lavish hospitality to placate the enemy and 
condone the lunatic's offense; but the Spaniards, with 
cunning, treachery, and a devilish ferocity that makes 
our red aborigines appear saints by contrast, proceeded 
with their program immediately after rising from the 
sumptuous repast. The chronicle of the torture, out- 
rage, and butchery that followed, beggars description; 
suffice it to say, that there was no pause until Naarden 
and its inhabitants had ceased to exist. 

The Youth is an inveterate collector of picture post- 
cards ; views he has seen, those he expects to see, those 
he has never seen and never expects to see; all is fish 
that comes to his net, and he never tires of fishing. 
Perhaps, stops for postcards, palms itching for un- 
earned gratuities, and Scoffy's hints that "it must be 
long past lunch time" comprised the greatest trials of 
Pater's "personally conducted" tour. 

At all events, the idea of passing through Naarden 
without stopping for cards appeared, to certain youth- 
ful eyes, little short of inhuman; so the motorcar 
ceased its sport of dodging and winding through nar- 
row streets and paused at the door of a likely-look- 
ing shop. These few minutes' delay contributed to 
the humiliation in store for us. We had entered 
through the outer and the inner town gates without 
incident, had threaded the intricate maze of streets, 
passed the first gate going out, and were just spinning 

72 



HAARLEM, LEIDEN, UTRECHT, NAARDEN 

over the narrow bridge to make our exit through the 
last gate into the open country when there came a 
decided setback. 

A trekvaart train loomed in front, occupying the 
whole road and bearing down upon us, Our sensa- 
tions may be best described in the words of one of the 
ladies : "I felt as I did one night while learning to 
ride a wheel, when I glanced up suddenly to find my- 
self looking into the face of a horse. Why, I just 
fell right off into the gutter." This simple expedient 
was denied us, and for one wild moment it looked as 
though our chauffeur intended to dispute the passage 
with the Dutch engine-driver; with one Dutchman 
pitted against another, total annihilation would have 
been inevitable. But calmer judgment prevailed ; our 
driver threw on his brake and then backed up grudg- 
ingly until a bend in the road offered a chance to turn 
out. Meanwhile, engine-driver and fireman, leaning 
from the cab of the slowly advancing locomotive, 
joined the guards and the passengers in one grand, 
howling chorus, until they had exhausted the conver- 
sational possibilities of the occasion — as regards gibes 
and jeers — to the very dregs. 

The trekvaart had "got even with us" at last! 
"Got even, good and plenty," the Youth complained. 
With chastened spirits we resumed our journey. 

Now the country was again perfectly flat. In the 
fresh green lands of the Naarder Meer Polder, fine 
roads, straight as a die for miles, presented an oppor- 
tunity for making time, and it was not many minutes 
before the exhilarating ride had revived our spirits. 
The little town of Muiden formed the only break in 
the journey; it, too, has earthworks and a moat, 
neither of them comparable with those of Naarden. 

7Z 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Near by, to the east, lies the old chateau Muider-Slot 
overlooking the Zuyder Zee. 

At a few tiny booths refreshments were on sale 
for those who travel the highway. The conspicuous 
placard "Melkbier" taxed our ingenuity for some time, 
but we eventually decided it must mean draught beer. 

The Watergrafsmeer Polder, and others, stretched 
away for miles on either hand. A canal along the 
road made its presence felt when our chauffeur had 
to slow down for bridges as the road crossed from 
one side to the other. Amsterdam's sky line showed 
on the horizon. Dusk was falling. The afterglow of 
a gorgeous sunset threw purple tones across the 
meadows and turned the canals and ditches into rib- 
bons of gold. A slow-moving boat appeared in the 
foreground, with a woman and two children in har- 
ness on the towpath and the skipper at the tiller, con- 
tentedly puffing his pipe. 

"What a picture!" "Isn't it perfect?" "Could 
anything be more beautiful?" Such were the enthu- 
siastic comments. 

"Yes, yes," admitted Scoffy, "it's fine. There is 
no use talking, it's fine! And," he added, pointing to 
the comfortable figure at the helm, "I see, as usual, 
'everybody works but father !' " 

At the journey's end our feelings must have approx- 
imated those of the traveler of coaching days when he 
drew near his hostelry at nightfall. The bugle's cheery 
notes heralded our approach to the hotel; grooms 
sprang to the horses' heads — no I my fancy runs away ! 
— the portier sprang to the door of our car and, at- 
tended by the usual audience of gamins, grocer-boys 
and idlers, we descended, vastly pleased and richer by 
a fine experience ; for we had seen the heart of Hol- 
land in every sense of the word, 

74 



CHAPTER V. 
MOTOR TALK: GOOD-BY, DEAR HOLLAND. 

OUR hired automobile was an unqualified suc- 
cess. It cost seventy-five florins (thirty dol- 
lars) for the trip; with the car at its nor- 
mal capacity of six passengers this amounted to 
five dollars apiece. Though we carried no odo- 
meter it would be safe to say that we had trav- 
eled one-hundred and forty miles. Taking the rail- 
road mileage of one-hundred and twenty (to in- 
clude these same towns) at the very reasonable rate of 
six and one-half cents (Dutch) per mile for second- 
class fare, you spend seven and eight-tenths florins 
(three dollars and twelve cents) per person for rail- 
road fares alone. This includes fourteen miles for an 
extra trekvaart trip to Muiden and Naarden, neither 
of which lies on the railroad. It would really be 
twenty-eight miles; but I split this amount to allow 
tor lower fares on the trekvaart; a dozen other towns 
not on the railroad have not been included, and we 
may assume that — failing to use a motor — you would 
never see them. 

Traveling by rail, you cannot hope to make our 
tour in less than two days, perhaps three; therefore, 
besides seven and eight-tenths florins for railroad fares 
you would have to add at least one day's hotel bills, 
to say nothing of hack fares in the cities, porters' fees 
and many general tips — which amounts, in all, to fully 
thirteen florins more. In other words, we pay about 

75 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

half as much for our trip as you do going by rail ; we 
see twice as much of both town and country and save 
one day, maybe two, over your allotted schedule. In 
addition, we are not bound by railroad time-tables, are 
our own masters in every respect, and are free from 
the petty cares and annoyances of travel.f 

A car accommodating two or three people would 
cost about $20.00 a day in Holland. With only two 
to share the expense they might still make a saving 
over railway and hack travel, considering how much 
more they would be able to see in less time. Going 
abroad alone you are at a disadvantage, but one al- 
ways is in such a case, being obliged to share state- 
rooms and railway compartments with strangers, as 
well as to spend proportionately more for rooms, cabs, 
boats, guides, tips, etc.* 

Rates for motorcars in France and Germany are 
about the same as in Holland; in England they are a 
trifle higher — some $25.00 for a small car, large ones 
in proportion. All these include chauffeurs' services 
and gasoline. You are expected to pay the chauffeur's 
board and lodging, but the cost is always reasonable, 
being charged at servants' rates, and in one-day trips 
there is only his lunch to provide. Of course, you must 
drive your own bargain carefully at each garage. Be 
sure you have a clear understanding as to the lengfth 
of a day's run; Continental garages are likely to as- 
sume this as 100 kilometers, which is very low. We 
found 100 miles to be about the average of a comfort- 
able day's trip, which seldom varies more than twenty- 
five miles either way from this distance; so it would 



*The only safe way is to make up a party of four or five, 
either before sailing or among the many congenial travelers one 
always meets on the steamer. 

tSee Appendix, p. 350. 

76 



MOTOR TALK: GOOD-BY TO HOLLAND 

be wise to insist on an allowance of at least 150 kilo- 
metres as an average run. 

It has been stated that motorists pay more at hotels 
than other guests. While there has been a tendency 
in this direction it is due principally to the fact that in 
the past motorists have demanded the best of every- 
thing. Where you hire a car after arriving at a hotel 
no such question should arise. If, in other cases, you 
ask the price of rooms beforehand, stating that you do 
not want the best in the house, and inquire about gar- 
age charges in case the hotel has a garage, you should 
have no trouble on this score. In fact, a reaction is 
setting it; many inns and hotels give reduced rates 
10 members of certain automobile clubs. The "Guide- 
Michelin" and the "Guide-Routiere Continental" which 
cover various European countries, are issued by the 
manufacturers of Michelin and Continental tires and 
are sensible hotel guides carefully compiled with an 
eye to fair prices and good service. It is advisable 
to telegraph ahead for accommodations, particularly 
in the case of small towns. Telegrams cost very little, 
abroad. 

An open car gives the best view of the scenery but, 
unless you are accustomed to being in the sun all day, 
J should advise a car with a top of some sort for July 
and August. The top keeps out much dust, as well, 
and is desirable in case of sudden showers. 

Where baggage is concerned, the party hiring a 
motorcar is much better off than one covering a long 
tour in a private car. The former may leave trunks 
and the like at a central base, taking only a minimum 
of light hand-baggage; the latter is often obliged to 
carry a suitcase for each person, which, assuming a 
large party, is excessive in weight and bulk and no end 
of trouble. It is wise to carry a "roll-up" with extra 

77 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

wraps, raincoats, and a spare steamer rug or two. We 
frequently found such additional protection by no 
means superfluous in England, and quite necessary 
everywhere in case of rain. Don't forget dusters, 
goggles, caps, and motor-veils for the ladies. 

Amsterdam, because of its location, its good gar- 
ages, and for other reasons evident from my story, is 
the best center for Holland. We omitted Delft, The 
Hague, and Scheveningen, having recently seen them ; 
but we could have included these and other interesting 
towns at the expense of one more day's motoring. I 
shall suggest favorable touring-centers in other coun- 
tries. Even a moderately small town may, if it lies 
in the line of motor traffic, possess a good garage with 
a suitable car for hire. The location of such places 
may be obtained abroad at the local hotel, at city 
garages, at American newspaper offices, or through 
friends who are members of motor clubs. Files of 
domestic and foreign motor magazines, recent foreign 
hotel guides, and similar publications give, in both text 
and advertisements, many hints that may be useful in 
first planning your tour. 

You must be the best judge of ways and means. 
Nor should you feel cast down if unable to find accom- 
modation wherever you choose to go. The idea of 
this mode of travel is still new, and so the demand for 
machines may easily exceed the supply. You cannot 
see all Europe In one summer's trip, anyway, and very 
likely a later visit will show the effect of the growing 
demand for automobiles. Of the great nations, Ger- 
many is, perhaps, most backward in the general use 
of motorcars, but she is improving rapidly and cities 
like Frankfort are building up an immense motor in- 
dustry. 

The most satisfactory way of all may be to apply to 

78 



MOTOR TALK: GOOD-BY TO HOLLAND 

an automobile-tour agency, which not only insures 
your finding a car awaiting you anywhere in Europe, 
but also aids in choosing routes — even supplying a car 
with a courier-chauffeur, if desired. 

It is time we said good-by to Holland. Of her peo- 
ple and their ways and customs, and the strong appeal 
they make to us of old Manhattan, I have perhaps said 
enough — of her history, her art, her culture and in- 
dustries, I would not presume to speak. Her mode of 
agriculture may strike the traveler as curious, yet it 
is by no means unique. Our western deserts, in re- 
gions where soil is good but rainfall at a minimum, 
have been transformed into blooming gardens by just 
such a method. Whether one drains the soil by 
ditches and pumps the water out, or pumps water in 
and irrigates by ditches, involves the same principle. 
In one case you build canals and flumes to fetch your 
water ; in the other, you build canals and dikes to keep 
it out. A simple method, though quite painstaking 
and arduous; but, in any event, pregnant with results. 

Dutch architecture is unique and, excepting canals, 
polders and windmills, is the most characteristic thing 
in Holland. It is primarily a domestic architecture; 
excepting the English country-house (half-timbered, 
and otherwise) and our own Colonial, it is the one 
truly domestic style. It may be applied to modest 
town halls and the like, but even the Dutch realize its 
limitations and turn to the Classic in their more pre- 
tentious buildings. Dutch houses possess a certain 
quietness, and at the same time a picturesqueness and 
variety, which is very satisfying; they are not neces- 
sarily, fantastic or restless, and I cannot help wishing 
that we might see more of them in America. 

79 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The Germans have attempted to incorporate the 
somewhat similar gables of the German Renaissance 
into their public buildings, as in the new Leipzig Rat- 
haus, with with poor success. In their rare incursions 
into Gothic and Renaissance architecture, the Holland- 
ers have displayed a courage in dropping their old 
convictions that often demonstrates, and always prom- 
ises, capacity for good design. 

With the second return to Amsterdam our happy 
days in Holland were virtually at an end. A few more 
trips around town to pick up stray threads of sight- 
seeing, dropped in favor of our excursions, a few 
hurried purchases of souvenirs and necessities, and we 
were fully prepared — though by no means anxious — 
to depart. It seemed as if we had spent a month in 
Holland, instead of a few days, so well had we learned 
to know and like it. 

"Oh, dear ! I feel as though I were saying good-by 
forever to all my ancestors," sighed Mater, as we set- 
tled ourselves in the train. 

The whistle squeaked and the train got under way ; 
watching for Hilversum and Amersfoort entertained 
us for a time. With Apeldoorn behind us, the Ger- 
man frontier was no longer far off. 

"Children, that may be your last Dutch windmill," 
said Pater. 

"Good-by," cried the ladies crowding to the win- 
dows. 

"Good-by, good-by," they cried, throwing kisses to 
a group of astonished cows standing knee-deep in the 
grass. 

"Good-by, dear Holland," called one Young Lady. 
Waving a last adieu to those green fields, she de- 
claimed with spirit : 

80 



MOTOR TALK: GOOD-BY TO HOLLAND 

"Dear Holland, 'many thoughts are wed to thee 
As hearts are wed. 
Nor shall they fail, till to its autumn brought, 
Life's golden fruit is shed !' " 



8i 



BOOK II. 



Wfit ®rue (ietmanp 



CHAPTER I. 



A NEW VIEW OF GERMANY AND A STOP- 
OVER AT OSNABRUCK. 

WERE we to believe implicitly all we read, to 
assimilate it without the proverbial grain 
of salt, what a strange idea we should get of 
people and their ways. Newspapers and periodicals 
have, for years, given us a diverting caricature of 
Germany. They picture it as the land of the absent- 
minded professor, the stolid beer-drinking student, 
the commonplace housewife, the unimaginative law- 
ridden citizen. They leave us with the impression of 
a prosaic, consequential community, devoid of humor, 
and restricted in free thought and personal liberty to 
the last degree. 

This total lack of romance and freedom they rashly 
impute to a great land of song and story; one un- 
usually rich in folklore and folksongs, a home of the 
fairy tale, and scene of legends reaching back, age by 
age, until they are mythology, — a mythology more 
picturesque than that of the Greeks and Romans. 
Which country was it, I ask you, first recognized 

83 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

the danger of overmuch learning and asceticism — > 
recognized it to a degree that provoked the saying, 
"Who loves not wine, woman and song, remains 
a fool his whole Hfe long?" And, lest I defeat 
my argument by seeming too serious, let me ask, 
what country boasts a witty eccentric to equal Till 
Eulenspiegel, or a droll sprite like Riibezahl, or 
a champion liar to equal Baron Miinchhausen ; what 
other country has decorated its tavern walls, for cen- 
turies, with a complete "Rubaiyat" of proverbs spark- 
ling with happy humor and lacking entirely the fatal- 
ism of Omar's philosophy? 

There are no so-called blue laws in Germany. It 
seems to me that we poor Americans (especially New 
Yorkers) — unable to buy a drink on Sunday or to 
make a bet at the races, unable to smoke on a street car 
platform or to demand a seat in exchange for our fare 
— should, above all things, beware of throwing stones 
lest we bring glass houses down about our ears. 

Such laws as exist, the Germans naturally expect to 
enforce. German officials are always courteous when 
treated with courtesy, even affable, in most cases; but 
this does not prevent their remembering that they up- 
hold the majesty of the law. Should you, failing to 
realize that the guard on a railroad train is a govern- 
ment officer, treat him and his suggestions with con- 
tempt, the mistake is yours. Just tell an American 
policeman to mind his own business when he asks you 
to move on, and you'll soon see what happens when 
you run counter to officialdom in any land. 

Not even the Kaiser would employ that phrase, "the 
public be damned," so freely used and often so truly 
applicable in America. The German people say what 
they please and think what they please about the Kai- 
ser. Of course, if a man is unusually offensive, or is an 

84 



VIEWS ON GERMANY: OSNABRUCK 

anarchist or other dangerous political agitator, or a 
prominent person who, because of the very extent of 
his influence, should be more careful, he is apt to be 
quite promptly and properly clapped into jail for any 
lese majesty. Of their own volition, the Germans sur- 
round the person of their ruler with a certain unassail- 
able dignity. If we in the United States did likewise, 
the recipient of our nation's greatest honor would per- 
haps sustain the dignity of the office of chief magis- 
trate more carefully than has sometimes been the case ; 
I believe we are also beginning to learn that unquali- 
fied fredom of speech is not always desirable, espe- 
cially in cases where educated — and, presumably, en- 
lightened — persons attempt to inflame the masses. 

The Germany I learned to know was delightful and 
quite the reverse of the one usually pictured. 

Of the great European countries which, should you 
think, extends the most cordial welcome to the Eng- 
lish-speaking traveler from over seas? "England," 
you say at once. No, not England. Whether they 
still harbor 1776 or 1812 against us, or are jealous of 
our growing power, or whether they are simply dis- 
playing the fundamental coolness of the English man- 
ner is an open question ; but certainly they are not cor- 
dial to us in England. "Well, then, France, the sister 
republic." No, not France, either; but Germany. 

It is in Germany you find the welcoming greeting of 
frank hospitality. The sunny smile, the song upon the 
lips, the eager, painstaking courtesy, the ever ready 
wit — these things show that the Germans delight in 
the joy of living, and desire the traveler, whoever he 
may be, to share It with them. In Germany the inn- 
keeper still clings to the old-fashioned custom of wel- 
coming his guest, of personally looking after his wel- 
fare, and wishing him God-speed. Obviously glad to 

85 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

see you, he makes you feel that he would be glad to see 
you again. In England the innkeeper acts as if he 
were doing you the greatest favor to take you under 
his roof at all, and appears not one whit concerned 
whether you come or go. This view of England is 
corroborated by the published statement of two of New 
York's leading hotel men who recently studied hotel 
life abroad. 

So far as the quaint and the picturesque are con- 
cerned, you will meet them in Germany wherever you 
turn. No need to visit celebrated towns such as Nu- 
remberg, Dantzic, or Rothenburg-on-the-Tauber. Gen- 
erally speaking, the German village makes the average 
French village look bare, squalid and ugly — the aver- 
age English village modern, hard and unattractive. 
There are exceptions in both countries, to be sure. 
England, for example, has certain well-known speci- 
mens of thatched cottage, certain carefully treasured 
relics of half-timber construction. Yet in Germany the 
most insignificant villages abound in these types of 
building, and in one day's run through the countryside 
you may see half a dozen half-timbered villages, to say 
nothing of many individual examples. It proved a 
complete surprise to me, as it may, perhaps, be to you. 

This revelation of the true Germany makes me feel 
doubly fortunate in having been able to study the 
country from intimate view-point of the automobile. 
1 had the privilege of riding in a private touring-car. 
Recalling the extent to which I have lauded the hired 
car, in a trip through Holland, you may be inclined to 
question the sincerity of my motives when I enlarge 
upon a trip taken by private motor. But a moment's 
reflection will prove that I could advance no more con- 
clusive argument than by describing just such a trip 
and illustrating the thousand and one tasks and annoy- 

86 



VIEWS ON GERMANY: OSNABRUCK 

ances to which the owner of the private car may be 
subjected. You have no doubt already made the de- 
duction that my remarks pertain only to the owner of 
the car. Traveling as a guest in a private car is quite 
another matter — the acme of felicity, one might easily 
say. 

My companions on these succeeding tours will be des- 
ignated as they were in Holland, adding Bobbie, the 
chauffeur, whom we shall call by his Christian name 
notwithstanding all ethics of British "good form." I 
shall introduce Bobbie as the wearer of a smile which 
assumes an expression of injured innocence when a po- 
liceman inquires why we were going twenty-five miles 
an hour, but disappears in favor of a determined lower 
jaw when some fellow wants the whole road, or some 
teamster ignores universal custom and written law by 
declining to give way to a faster-moving vehicle. 

We entered Germany, as we had Holland, by rail. 
The reason for this was directly due to the first series 
of difficulties confronting the owner of a car brought 
from America. Every country requires you to register 
your car, purchase a license, demonstrate or otherwise 
prove the efficiency of your chauffeur, and make a de- 
posit sufficient to cover the duty due should you chance 
to sell your car instead of taking it home again. These 
requirements vary in different countries, but are gen- 
erally as enumerated. Adding to all this red tape the 
expense of buying road maps, the bother of studying 
them, the uncertainty of finding a good garage at the 
landing place, the probability of being without the car 
for several days (if not a week) after landing, etc., it 
seemed hardly worth while to view Holland from our 
own car. We would have had time to see the whole 
country while waiting to get the car, since It would 
take but a few days to make a tour of Holland, and on 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

entering Germany we should have been confronted 
with much of the same sort of trouble. So the car was 
shipped to Hamburg, while we sailed on a Dutch boat 
and made our tour of Holland in a hired automobile. 

Pater, a member of the Automobile Club of Amer- 
ica, could have enjoyed the courtesy of the Royal Au- 
tomobile Club of London, which extends not only ad- 
vice regarding ways and means and routes in England 
and on the Continent, but also issues a certificate of 
deposit to cover foreign customhouse requirements. 
But as England was not our first objective, he made 
application for membership in the Touring Club of 
France, whose triptyques simplify touring in both 
France and Germany.* 

Having thus avoided red tape and delay in Holland, 
we found ourselves in the compartment of a German 
railway train. To break the ten hours' journey from 
Amsterdam to Hamburg, a stop-over of several hours 
was made at Osnabriick. The slight stop near the bor- 
der for the customs inspection hardly afforded much 
of a rest, so quickly and politely did the officials pass 
our baggage; they opened only two out of fourteen 
pieces. 

Though a flourishing town of fifty-one thousand in- 
habitants the prevailing note Osnabriick sounds for the 
visitor is that of antiquity. Once in the center of the 
town, we hardly needed Pater's admonition, "Please 
remember the bishopric of Osnabriick was founded by 
Charlemagne in 785," to make us realize the great age 
of the place. Presumably a ford or bridge of the 
Hase in the dim past, it grew to be an important for- 
tress in the Middle Ages and a town of considerable 
size. Our cabmen drove for fully an hour through 



^See Appendix, p. 350. 




OSNABRUCK: in this RATHAUS the peace of WESTPHALIA 
WAS SIGNED. {P. 89.) 




HAilBURG: '• WUi-X THE KAISER REALLY CAME." {P. I05.) 



VIEWS ON GERMANY: OSNABRUCK 

squares and crooked, narrow streets, lined with gabled 
houses centuries old. 

Many dwellings had driveways leading to interior 
courts, the entrance being barred by huge wooden 
gates. Narrow thoroughfares paved with cobbles and 
frequently quite innocent of any sidewalk, crazy roofs 
and leaning fronts, overhanging gables, low stories and 
tiny windows (and, withal, the fact that the houses 
were in good repair and tenanted) gave a more vivid 
impression of a medieval town than we had heretofore 
received. The picture needed but a few gossiping 
housewives in old-time dress, a gay halberdier in 
leather jerkin, doublet and hose, flirting with a flaxen- 
haired Frdulein, and maybe the town crier announc- 
ing the next public execution — to take us back bodily 
some five hundred years. On second thought I should 
add dirty streets and a few bad smells to my inventory 
of requirements. 

A sign ''Eingang zum BischofUchen Palais," located 
the ancient palace of the archbishops. The high-roofed 
Gothic Rathaus (town hall) with its row of German 
emperors in canopied niches along the front, spoke for 
itself, as did the venerable cathedral with quaint tow- 
ers and green copper roofs — a church too old to afford 
much display of architectural beauty, yet possessing 
quite a little fine, crumbling, Gothic tracery. In this 
very Rathaus was signed the peace of Westphalia, 
which put an end to the Thirty Years' War, one mem- 
orable August day of 1648; giving the whole of cen- 
tral Europe, laid waste by fire and sword, a passing 
chance to recuperate. 

Down a fine vista of the Hase, with arching bridges 
and overhanging trees, we saw the Hasetor. Next we 
passed a hoary, gray, stone tower, an old landmark 

89 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

converted, with its surrounding terrace, into that pop- 
ular German institution, a coffee garden. 

Our carriage turned into a broad avenue following 
the line of a pretty little park — the promenade on the 
site of the old fortifications — and presently we came 
to a piece of the city wall kept intact to preserve a 
memorial gate. Of far greater interest than the gate, 
was the adjacent section of the wall, carrying an enor- 
mous oak whose branches threw shade over a goodly 
space of ground. Loving hands had railed it off and 
propped up its giant limbs. How many generations 
it may have sheltered we can only conjecture, but cer- 
tainly it was a more magnificent specimen than any 
we chanced upon afterward in England's New Forest 
or Sherwood Forest. Mater voiced the tenor of our 
thoughts, as she quoted: 

"Woodman, spare that tree ; 

Touch not a single bough. 
In youth it sheltered me, 

And I'll protect it now. 
'Twas my forefather's hand" 



"Oh no, Mater," interrupted Scoffy. "All Holland 
is yours, and as much of France as you think neces- 
sary to qualify for your 'de,' but we'll not allow you 
ancestors everywhere." 

Traversing Grabengasse on the site of its some- 
time moat, we came upon the palace, a desolate look- 
ing building on a narrow street. It was not as old as 
we had expected; but, goodness knows! it looked de- 
crepit enough across the bare courtyard, and very for- 
lorn, as it stood there hemmed in by unwonted sur- 
roundings. Given human attributes, it must be pon- 
dering sadly on the ephemeral qualities of earthly 

90 



VIEWS ON GERMANY: OSNABRUCK 

splendor, and the strangely eccentric march of human 
progress. 

"Another 'palace without a king,' " said Mater. "I 
don't like them ; they are entirely too mournful. Let's 
go back." 

Most of the half-timbered houses had the whole 
front painted, beams and plaster alike, the wood gen- 
erally picked out in a darker tint. While disappoint- 
ing, I suppose it was a necessary sop to the modern 
life of the town. There were some exceptions, how- 
ever, that showed the real thing. Notably three fine 
old Renaissance houses in Bierstrasse,* with carved 
fronts entirely of wood or with the plaster panels 
richly decorated in color ; the wood had weathered till 
it was almost black and was quite on a par with that 
of the famous "Mahogany House" in Frankfort. 

We were glad to have seen Osnabriick, for its own 
sake and for the sake of historical facts it called to 
mind. For example, the fact that Charlemagne, 
shortly after his coronation as emperor in the year 
800, conquered and Christianized the Saxons, ex- 
plained, in a measure, the surprising number of stat- 
ues of Roland we afterward saw in the towns of 
western Germany. Few novels deal with the great 
man of the Dark Ages : "Passe Rose," by A. S. 
Hardy, a charming love story of Charlemagne's court, 
gives us but a meagre introduction to the emperor; 
on the other hand, Felix Dahn's "Bis zum Tode Ge- 
treu" (True unto Death) which draws a fine picture 
of the great emperor and of the early Saxons at home, 
has, I believe, never been translated. 

Of men who have been accorded that supremely hon- 
ored "great," Charlemagne presents the most heroic 



*Stras8e — street. 

91 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

figure; statesman, soldier, scholar, judge, and teacher, 
general of fifty-three campaigns in less than forty 
years, he retained till death his majestic presence — 
seven feet of indefatigable, upright manhood — as well 
as the fire of those remarkable blue eyes whose glance, 
in anger, not many could endure. 



92 





KXTRAXCK TO FREK IMjRI. {P. 93.) 

HAMBURG. 



CHAPTER II. 
HAMBURG. 

THE SECOND CITY OF GERMANY. 

THE imperial city of Hamburg is a monument of 
modern commercial prosperity. Though des- 
tined from the first to become a great sea- 
port, owing to her location at the mouth of the Elbe, 
that water highway for middle Europe, she ex- 
perienced many trying vicissitudes. Her present su- 
premacy dates from the establishment of steamer con- 
nection with America. The old Hamburg was a free 
city; the Hamburg of today is virtually a little repub- 
lic, making her own laws and coining her own money. 
The governing body consists of eighteen senators 
elected for life, and one-hundred and sixty representa- 
tives having a tenure of six years, and from its own 
members the Senate selects two burgomasters for each 
year. The city is an independent member of the Ger- 
man empire, represented in the Bundesrath. After 
London and New York, Hamburg is perhaps the most 
important commercial city in the world; upwards of 
fourteen thousand seagoing vessels are said to enter 
its port in a year, the river Elbe contributing an ad- 
ditional nineteen thousand bottoms.* The free port 
with its huge wharves, docks, and stores, separated 
from the rest of the city by a customs line, is one of 
the great sights of Germany. 

In the face of all this material excellence it is diffi- 



^Statistics of the year 1900. 

93 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

cult for the American traveler, hungry for evidences of 
antiquity or of historical import, to delve beneath the 
modern veneer for old Hamburg. This difficulty is 
considerably increased owing to the fire of 1842, which 
swept the city for three days, destroying practically all 
the oldest part; but once you get on the track of old 
sites and stray landmarks the search proves interest- 
ing. An awe inspiring phenomenon connected with 
the great fire was the ringing of church bells in the 
midst of the flames — attributed by some to curious 
physical causes, by others to the hand of an old sexton 
hemmed in by the fire. 

Charlemagne, in the busy years succeeding his coro- 
nation, established a fort on the tongue of land be- 
tween the Alster and the Elbe as a check to the Wends, 
those unpleasant barbarians who could not be tamed 
and refused to be chastened, and in 811 he erected the 
Hammaburg about where the Petri Church and the 
Johanneum stand today. At the time William the 
Norman was invading England, Hamburg boasted 
three castles : — that of the Saxon Duke Bernhard II, 
which replaced the old Hammaburg; a second one, to 
the southeast, about where Hopfensack Strasse runs, 
belonging to the archbishop of Hamburg ; and a third, 
built by Duke Arnulf to offset the archbishop's power, 
on the spot where the present Nikolai Church stands. 
The street or square adjoining this church is called the 
Neuberg (new castle) to this day. Enclosing the 
triangular space thus formed ran the city wall, with a 
great wall tower on each of the sides. These are the 
three towers displayed on Hamburg's coat of arms. 

The fashion set by William the Norman evidently 
found favor elsewhere, for Waldemar, king of the 
Danes, set out in search of conquests and laid siege to 
Hamburg for the purpose of exacting tribute. Think- 

94 



HAMBURG 

ing the movement would pay, he calmly built a castle 
just outside the city walls and proceeded to levy toll 
on the cargoes and trains of the good Hamburgers; 
his castle on the Feendsberg (enemies' hill) now cor- 
rupted into Venusberg, stood where Venusberg Street 
runs. 

It was not the only quarter from which danger 
threatened, as a prosperous community of those days 
invited attack from all directions. The Vikings, for 
example, those dread North Sea pirates, never over- 
looked Hamburg in their marauding expeditions ; and 
old records have it that the former meadows, now oc- 
cupied by the Grasbrook section of the free port, were 
often dotted with the bleaching skulls of those daring 
Norsemen. 

The suburb of St. Pauli was first settled by a colony 
of whalers and whale oil refiners, and the present 
church of St. Pauli was founded as a parish church to 
look after their religious needs. 

The Danish castle at Feendsberg, however irksome 
it must have been, eventually made for the lasting 
profit of Hamburg, whose citizens succeeded in buying 
off the Danes; and this precious independence was 
subsequently acknowledged by neighboring potentates. 
In 1 24 1 the Hanseatic League was formed (an offen- 
sive and defensive league entered into by the trading 
cities to protect themselves from the rapacity of neigh- 
boring powers) with Hamburg and Liibeck as the 
prime movers. In 15 10 Hamburg, at last universally 
recognized as a free, imperial city, became the Freie 
und Hansestadt Hamburg and was enabled to enjoy 
some of the fruits of her ceaseless struggles. The 
wonder is that trade ever survived those dark ages 
and that the marauding nobles did not effectually kill 
the goose that laid the golden eggs. 

95 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The boundary of city walls was continually en- 
larged until it reached the line of the present circle of 
parks extending from the Bismarck monument, 
through the Botanical Garden, over the Lombards- 
briicke to the Haupt Bahnhof, thence down to the 
Elbe. Later on the old walls were converted into 
streets, but may still be traced by their names, such as, 
Neuer Wall (new ramparts), Kurze Miihren (short 
walls), Lange Miihren and Bei Den Miihren. Along 
the park circle you can easily determine the names 
and locations of the various city gates by the names of 
the cross streets, such as Hafentor, Millerntor, Hols- 
tentor, Damtor, Ferdinandstor, etc., etc., — the termina- 
tion "tor" signifying gate. 

That the city remained unscathed by the Thirty 
Years' War was due not to good fortune, but to good 
defenses. However, while annexed to France at the be- 
ginning of the nineteenth century, she suffered greatly 
at the hands of Marshal Davout when thousands of 
proscribed citizens, driven out of the town in bitter 
winter weather, perished of famine or exposure in the 
Heiligen Geist field and other environs. Facing the 
street between the cemeteries back of the Botanical 
Gardens stands a monument which marks the resting 
place of hundreds of these unfortunates, whose re- 
mains were gathered up and burled in one grave. 

The names of the various market squares are in- 
teresting: Meat Market, Fish Market, Pig Market, 
Hop Market, Horse Market, Goose Market, etc. 
In the Goose Market (Gansemarkt) stands a monu- 
ment erected to Lessing in recognition of his activity 
in developing the early German opera and drama. 
Near by, at No. 27 Konigstrasse, reached from the 
Gansemarkt by an alley called Shirtsleeve (Hemdsar- 
mel), stands the house where Klopstock, the famous 

96 



HAMBURG 

poet and satirist, lived many years. Not far away at 
No. 60 Speckstrasse is an old half-timbered dwelling, 
now a tenement, standing in the back court, and here 
the composer Brahms was born. Mendelssohn's 
birthplace, at Michaelis Strasse 56, is further south 
toward the Elbe. Hamburgers of old needed no 
trades' directory, as the queer names of the streets will 
testify; Baker's Street, Mill Street, Brewer's Street, 
Hopsack Street, Wheelwright's Way, Corn Carrier's 
Way, Coalyard Street — these are some of the charac- 
teristic appellations. Their like may be found in most 
German towns and cities. At Kugelsort (Cannon- 
ball Place) are some old timbered houses with 
carved inscriptions; Cat's Court (Katzenhof) is 
eloquent of the nightly trials of suffering human- 
ity, and Adulterer's Way (Ehebrecher, now Ebraer- 
Gang) suggests old-time scandals. Steinstrasse is 
said to have been the first paved street in Ger- 
many, and was so known to the journeymen of 
the Middle Ages, though not sufficiently droll to 
be used as their characteristic sign for Hamburg. 
Instead, they used an old gravestone — formerly 
in the old cathedral and now in the basement of 
the Johanneum — which displays the picture of a 
donkey playing the bagpipes; its inscription, to the 
effect that "the world is topsy-turvy, that is why I, 
poor donkey, have learned to pipe," suggests, that as 
early as 1516, fashions and ideas had already begun to 
change too rapidly and unaccountably to suit some 
poor soul who employed this unique method of regis- 
tering his protest. 

So much for old Hamburg. Modern Hamburg is 
an attractive city ; not only does the ring of parks add 
to its natural beauty, but the Alster river, widened into 

97 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

a lake, makes a veritable park of the heart of the city. 
At the lower shore lies the business section which ex- 
tends up the sides, in the guise of big hotels and fine 
office buildings, as far as Lombardsbriicke. Beyond 
this the lake is lined with handsome private houses 
(mostly detached), each adding its quota of garden 
and fine trees to the embellishment of the scene, and 
where the ferry crosses the upper end of the lake, is 
the Uhlenhorst section with its fine casino, a popular 
resort. Tiny steamers, making a round trip of the 
Alster, offer not only a pleasant outing but an effective 
means of traveling from one part of town to another, 
and the river affords opportunity for swimming, row- 
ing, sailing and skating. Hamburg possesses strong 
attraction for the tourist in the shape of many arcades 
with small shops. 

What concerned us most of all in Hamburg was 
getting possession of Pater's car. He had handed it 
over to a shipping agent in New York and had not 
seen it since; it is not necessary to employ a shipping 
agent,* but the possibility of being obliged to use a 
special crane because of the car's weight induced Pater 
to place the responsibility upon more experienced 
shoulders. Accordingly we had only to call on this 
agent's representative and ask for news of the big 
bundle which, shipped on the President Lincoln, had 
arrived before we did. But, though we had been in 
town several days, the "Spediteur," as the Hamburg 
agent was called, could only promise the car for Fri- 
day or Saturday. Finally Pater's big box was located 
in the hold and promised positively for Saturday morn- 
ing, so you see it required nearly a week's time to 
unload. 



*See Appendix, p. 351. 

98 



HAMBURG 

Nobody was more anxious to get the auto than 
Bobbie who, most of the time, had wandered around 
like a lost soul, 

"Having a good time, Robert?" Pater would say. 
"Like foreign countries?" 

"Yes, Mr. Pater, they are all very fetching; but if 
I could only lay hands on that car of mine again, I'd 
be happy." 

Scoffy and the Youth, nothing loth to see the free 
port again, had seven o'clock breakfast with Pater on 
Saturday morning. The agent sent his handy-man up 
to the hotel, armed with cotton waste, oil and gaso- 
line, and, with Bobbie, we set out in a cab for the 
docks. Once through the customs line, we alighted 
at a little ferry slip, whence the boat took us to our 
particular Hafen. The handy-man, valuable just as 
a guide in that vast region of stores and shipping, 
carried the gasoline can in a sack for reasons readily 
imagined. At last the President Lincoln towered be- 
fore us and, walking carefully to avoid the ton weights 
great cranes were lightly swinging from hold to pier, 
we soon spied a huge box labeled "THE ADAMS EX- 
PRESS COMPANY OF NEW YORK," "MORRIS' 
EUROPEAN EXPRESS." Whee! but it was good 
to see that name, Adams Express Company, after 
being away from all things American for nearly a 
month. We felt like giving it a cheer. The box stood 
on rollers, and a dozen longshoremen with bars soon 
pinched it down to the end of the raised platform, 
where a traveling crane set it on the ground. Then 
came the unpacking. Willing hands assisted, and the 
agent carefully saved every nut and bolt, for the sec- 
tions of the box were to go to Southampton, whence 
the car would be shipped for home. Each side was 
a section, and they soon had the beauty out, spick and 

99 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

span and ready for the road, with just a little dust 
upon her. 

"I hope she go," remarked the agent; "so many 
foreign motors don't go right away." 

"Well, you can bet a forty-dollar dog this one will 
go," retorted Bobbie, flushing at the insult to his fa- 
vorite. The lubricating oil, which was very thick and 
dirty, demanded much straining and more swearing. 

"Well, if that's the oil they get over here, I don't 

wonder some cars don't go," quoth Bobbie; but it 
didn't take him long to fill the gasoline tank and get 
the motor humming. 

Just as we finished unpacking, a guide came along 
with a following of open-mouthed "trippers" seeing 
the marvels of the Hamburg docks. The guide sidled 
up to Pater, asked a few hurried questions in a whis- 
per, and then, turning to his audience, waved his cane 
and resumed his oration with great nonchalance. 

"And this, ladies and gentlemen, is an American 
automobile, manufactured in the midst of Amerika, 
and just brought over from Neu York at incrrrrredible 
expense." The incredible expense, you may be inter- 
ested to learn, was four hundred dollars for boxing, 
handling, and freight both ways.* 

The next step was passing the double customs line. 
We whizzed along to the first one, picked up an officer 
who guided us to the second, where he left us to inter- 
view one of the chief inspectors of the port. 

Pater gave his pedigree, presented his credentials 
and triptyques, and launched a few jokes suitable to 
the occasion, the inspector responding amiably, while 
his secretary made copious entries. Pater paid for his 
three-weeks license. The inspector came out to record 



*See Appendix, p. 351. 

ICO 



HAMBURG 

a general description of the car, the maker's name, the 
factory number, the number of the motor, the horse- 
power, and the number of cyHnders. Then he said : 

"Here is your number tag. Put it on the back; a 
visiting car need not carry any in front. But fasten it 
on tight, for we will not give you another on this li- 
cense, and you will have to surrender it when you 
cross the border." He playfully poked a package of 
cotton waste. "No liquors or cigars in here, hein? 
Nor any diamonds? Well, I'll say good-by. Take 
care of yourselves and have a good time." And with 
that we were through with the "dread German official" 
for good and all. 

A day after our arrival the city resounded with the 
cry, 'Der Kaiser kommt! Der Kaiser kommt!" 
Everywhere men were busy decorating the streets and 
otherwise preparing for the imperial visit. He arrived 
by automobile and, one morning. Pater found that 
section of the best garage, where he had fondly hoped 
to locate, occupied by four white cars with the im- 
perial monogram on their doors and little gold crowns 
surmounting the lamps. Pater felt huffed, but both 
the owner of the garage and the chauffeurs wearing 
the imperial maroon livery expressed their regret at 
ousting him. The latter invited him to inspect their 
cars, and permitted the Youth to test the softness of 
the cushions, that he might say he had sat in the 
Kaiser's car; and so our chief grew mollified, and re- 
marked, maybe Rockefeller or Morgan would have put 
him out with less ceremony. We received a fair loca- 
tion in another part of the garage, though it was too 
crowded to suit us. 

There being no palace in this "republic" the im- 
perial yacht Hohenzollern, anchored off the St. Pauli 
landing stage, served as the Emperor's hotel. The 

1 01 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

day passed in official visits, but for the ensuing even- 
ing a water fete and a grand reception to the Kaiser 
at the Uhlenhorst Casino were planned. The shores 
of the Alster Basin had been strung for miles with fes- 
toons of electric lamps in Japanese lanterns, and the 
parade of gaily illuminated boats, the red fire and the 
rockets furnished a fine spectacle. 

Pater's friends had secured an invitation for him 
and the "gnadige Frau." Acordingly Mater donned 
her best gown and the elegant new hat she had immedi- 
ately purchased on this pretext; and Pater dug his 
swallowtail out of the trunk. A honk at the door told 
that the motor was waiting. We all rushed downstairs 
to speed the departing guests and hurl our last jokes 
at them. Bobbie, the chauffeur, widened his happy 
smile by several degrees as he let in the clutch on his 
beloved car, and sent her along to her first imperial 
reception. 

Hamburg has often been at loggerheads with the 
Kaiser. As often, perhaps, if not as irrationally as 
was the Prince of Reuss with old Emperor William; 
so this was the Kaiser's first visit in many years. We 
were, therefore, exceedingly curious to learn the issue. 
As a matter of fact it was a perfect love feast; ex- 
pressions of mutual regard and good fellowship every- 
where. In the absence of the Empress, ladies are not 
presented. Accordingly, only men were permitted to 
ascend to the gallery where the Kaiser was entertain- 
ing his friends, though the ladies obtained a very good 
view of him from the terrace below, as he stepped out 
upon a balcony to greet them; they were very enthu- 
siastic, and stood on tables and chairs to get a close 
look. The daughter of one of Pater's friends eyed the 
Kaiser so sharply from her perch on a table, that he 
shook his finger at her, saying : "Young lady, if you 

1 02 



HAMBURG 

look at me like that my wife will be jealous." Pater, 
giving his version of the evening's entertainment, de- 
clared it a most informal affair. "I hung around 
Billie's elbow as long as I decently could, and yet give 
his best friends any show at all. Then I wandered 
over to the punch bowl, had a few smiles with my own 
friends and a sandwich or two, and strolled back again 
to hear a few more words of imperial wisdom." 

And this, some American newspapers would have 
us believe, was the meeting of an arrogant, arbitrary 
despot and his servile, oppressed people. Who would 
be as gullible as the American public ? 

Next day Pater had a lot to say about "Me and the 
Emperor." Nothing serious, however, and scarcely 
worth Scoffy's gibe, "As my friend Prince Fuji Jama 
would say, 'Never were such very honorable ribs so 
close to sagacious forefinger which punctuates venera- 
ble joke.' " "Never mind, Scoffy," rejoined Pater, 
"Me and the Emperor are getting pretty close, nowa- 
days, aren't we?" and then he began humming his fa- 
favorite air from "Pinafore" : — 

"When I was a lad, I served a term. 

As office boy to an attorney's firm, 
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor. 

And polished up the handle of the big front door." 

"And polished up the handle of the big front door," 
he repeated with gusto, as if it were true and he 
relished the recollection. 

Sunday was race-day at the Horner track, not far 
from town. The Kaiser was expected to attend the 
races, and the Kaiserin was coming for this express 
purpose. She was a patroness, having donated the 
Auguste Victoria prize for of^cers, a steeplechase prize 
worth some thousands of dollars. The Crownprince 

103 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

and the Crownprincess, as well as Prince Eitel Fried- 
rich with his wife, were in town, stopping at the hotel 
next door to ours. 

As the Empress was late in arriving, the Emperor, 
awaiting her at the station, was also delayed. Some 
of Pater's friends were driven to the track first and 
when the motor returned for us it had grown pretty 
late and the streets were crowded. We resorted to 
side streets as far as possible, but finally were obliged 
to turn towards the only highway; along this street, 
held open for the Kaiser, an army of police was busy 
keeping back the masses of waiting spectators. A de- 
spairing wail of our horn brought a dozen policemen 
to the spot and they good-naturedly let us in through 
the crowd. 

"Go as fast as you like," admonished the captain, 
"only, get out of the way." 

As we swung into that broad, empty roadway, and 
started off at a twenty-mile pace, the people, expecting 
their ruler en automobile and seeing little more than 
the glittering front of our big Packard, imagined the 
Kaiser was approaching. A group of school children 
raised the first shout, which swelled into a tremendous 
roar as it swept along the line; handkerchiefs waved, 
caps flew into the air, people craned their necks and 
split their throats in a royal welcome. And so, for a 
scant ten minutes, we rode between lines of cheering 
thousands, enjoying the rousing greeting accorded a 
ruling sovereign. Pater enjoyed it right down to the 
ground, as the saying goes; bowing right and left, 
gravely touching his cap in military salute, he needed 
all his strength of will to suppress the grin that threat- 
ened his dignity. I think he had about five years' fun 
in five minutes' time. As we drew up at the end of 
the line near the race track and the cheers had died 

104 



HAMBURG 

away, his eyes sparkled with Indescribable merriment, 
and he murmured softly, "I cleaned the windows and 
I swept the floor, and I polished up the handle of the 
big front door." 

Here we were stalled to await the arrival of their 
majesties. When the Kaiser really came it was in a 
carriage drawn by four white horses. Scoffy stood 
on a carriage-block and "snapped" him — at least, as 
much of him as was possible, between an effort to 
avoid the interposition of the Kaiserin's big hat, and 
anxiety to include all four horses. 

The races were run on a turf track, a pretty set- 
ting for the interesting holiday crowd. The presence 
of royalty had brought out a galaxy of beauty very 
handsomely gowned, and the usual collection of mili- 
tary uniforms was augmented by the appearance of 
many officers of high rank. The officers' races and the 
sight of many officers entered in other races with pro- 
fessional jockeys, proved a special attraction to us. 

During intermissions occupants of the grand-stand 
promenaded the track in front of the imperial box, and 
many gathered there, coolly inspecting the royalties 
and their suites through lorgnettes and opera glasses, 
to which rather marked scrutiny the Emperor and the 
others seemed politely indifferent. We had a very 
good view of all the great personages, both during the 
races and afterwards while they were departing. The 
Kaiserln is a fine-looking woman, and her hair, almost 
entirely gray, adds to the dignity of her appearance. 
The Crownprincess has a pretty, vivacious face, which 
seldom lacks a rather mischievous and very attractive 
smile; extremely popular with all classes, the people 
speak of her affectionately as "our" Crownprincess, 
rather than "the" Crownprincess. 

The returning traffic was admirably handled. Police- 

105 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

men stationed barely a hundred feet apart, kept every- 
one moving steadily if slowly, and prevented any block- 
ade. Noticing our impatience to get ahead of slower 
vehicles, policemen twice pointed out avenues of es- 
cape, but not in time for us to turn ; had we known the 
city better we would doubtless have been able to seek 
side streets at once. 

Some of our friends thought that the delusion of 
the populace regarding our identity earlier in the day, 
was largely increased by the car's lacking the custo- 
mary local number on the front. 

We saw a great deal of our friends and they made 
our stay most pleasant. Besides, Hamburg looked 
very beautiful from the balcony of our sitting-room on 
Neue Jungfernstieg, and the hotel was modern and 
comfortable. But Pater urged the resumption of the 
journey, so on the morning of the 23rd of June, ac- 
companied by a bell-boy to show the shortest way out 
of town and get us headed along the proper road, we 
turned our backs on Hamburg. This unusual plan of 
giving dates is- adopted for the benefit of those who 
might wish to make practical use of this book in plan- 
ning a motor-tour. 

Our plan was to strike south via Liineburg and 
spend the night at Brunswick. This was no specially 
long run, but we had determined to see things com- 
fortably and rationally and not let the speeding-fever 
get into our blood. Long before sailing from America 
we had purchased a set of Ravenstein's maps of Ger- 
manv* and the routes chosen, as well as the daily 
stints, proved easily accomplished. 

Before dismissing Hamburg entirely I wish to men- 
tion an amusing incident that occurred on our arrival. 
Having reached the city a day sooner than expected, 

*See Appendix, p. 351, 

106 



'*»>A i 



'■•V ■ ^SiJ^'V 



OUR HOTEL ON THE ALSTER. (P. Io6.) 




THERE ARE MANY ARCADES WITH SMALL SHOPS. (P. 98.) 

HAMBURG. 



;%? 



HAMBURG 

we were obliged to take rooms in a hotel on Alte 
Jungfernstieg. This street proved very noisy and 
Pater importuned the hotel keeper of whom he had 
ordered rooms, to let us have them as soon as "possible. 
He was "willing to do all that could be done," but re- 
gretted that "the presence of a Japanese prince pre- 
cluded the occupancy of two of the apartments." 

"What!" exclaimed Scoffy, "my friend Prince Fuji 
Jama in town, and I didn't know it? I must try to 
see him at once." 

But we got no sight of his highness, nor any trace 
of him. Though at first we believed him to be 
Scoffy 's Japanese acquaintance of Amsterdam, we 
finally decided to class him as a picturesque example 
from the handy repertoire of myths hotel men employ 
to furnish plausible excuses. But when Mater was 
about to retire for the night, she found at the foot 
of her bed a pair of bright red, oriental slippers, much 
the worse for wear — a reproachful witness to our ma- 
ligned landlord's truthfulness. 

"Too bad we are not going to Berlin," commented 
Scoffy. "It would have been quite exciting to trace 
his highness' progress by his forgotten wearing ap- 
parel. With luck we might have found his diary, 
which I am sure he would write in Ingleese.' " 



107 



CHAPTER III. 
HAMBURG TO BRUNSWICK. 

JUNE 23RD — 1 10 MILES. 

LEAVING our hotel in Hamburg at nine a. m., 
we crossed the great bridge over the Elbe to 
the island of Wilhelmsburg, which lies be- 
tween the Norder and the Siider Elbe, and is pro- 
tected against floods by dikes. Here we left our bell- 
boy guide. We could undoubtedly have found our 
way alone, but Pater declared he would rather waste 
an hour in the country than lose ten minutes amid 
city traffic. Crossing the bridge into Harburg we 
had to pay toll; about forty pfennigs, I think — at all 
events no exorbitant sum. 

Harburg, as old as Hamburg, owes its origin to 
the same source and to analogous reasons. Had 
Charlemagne presented a church and a castle to his 
fortress on the Suder Elbe instead of to the one on 
the Norder Elbe, probably today Harburg would be 
the world-renowned city of more than 800,000 inhab- 
itants, and Hamburg, the manufacturing town of less 
than 60,000. On the other hand, the Black Hills of 
Harburg, properly fortified, might have forced King 
Waldemar to whistle for his tribute, in which event 
there would have been no purchased freedom, no 
proud, free city insisting on her rights; only a miser- 
able town done to death by various would-be owners 
among the petty princes. Upon such slender threads 
have hung the scales inclining to present greatness. 

109 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

We pushed on via Sinsdorf, Jehrden and Stelle to 
the little town of Winsen on the Luhe. Our road 
skirted a canal which, with the low country reclaimed 
from the Elbe, reminded us of Holland's polders. Be- 
yond Winsen the country grew higher and we began 
to find pine woods on either hand. Soon we passed 
the forestry of Habichtshorst. Wherever the ruthless 
axe had bitten sections out of the forest, stood care- 
fully planted fields of young growth, like a countless 
collection of miniature Christmas trees; their pretty, 
blue-green needles hid the scar on the landscape, while 
their sturdy aspect gave promise of closing the gap 
entirely some years hence. We noticed wood-cutters 
at work felling new sections, and all along the road 
met huge, bare poles on their way to sawmills, or to 
spots where rafts are built for a voyage down the 
river. Often, to economize labor, one driver of a four- 
in-hand moved a train of two or three big logs. Not- 
withstanding this heavy trucking, the roads were in 
splendid condition. 

A sudden turn brought us on a sextet of mounted 
army officers. They drew aside to let the car pass, 
and though they tried to do their bounden duty in 
scrutinizing the ladies, the antics of their spirited 
horses interfered. As the automobile swept past, up 
the hill, our last glimpse showed the agonizing spec- 
tacle of their leader trying to fix a monocle in his eye 
while his restive thoroughbred danced on its hind legs. 

We whizzed through the fragrant forest which 
raised its tall trunks in perfect alignment at either 
side. No trace of underbrush impaired the park-like 
appearance ; neither mark nor blemish marred the ab- 
solute uniformity except, here and there, a blaze in- 
dicating a section to be cut. Now and again a broad 
fire lane crossed the road at right angles and van- 

IIO 



HAMBURG TO BRUNSWICK 

ished downhill, giving a fleeting glimpse of distant 
country. These pine woods extended nearly to Bar- 
dowieck; and from exclamations of surprise, Scoffy 
resorted to caustic remarks about a congressional 
committee which, going abroad to inspect the German 
work of forest culture, returned only to report that it 
was all very fine — but there was, as yet, no need of 
taking such trouble in America. 

Bardowieck, once a great trading city, was destroyed 
by Henry the Lion in 1 1 89, in the very year Hamburg 
was pleading with Emperor Fredrich Barbarossa (the 
grand old man among emperors of the Holy Roman 
Empire) for special privileges of self-government; 
these, though once purchased at a heavy price from 
the marauding king of the Danes, had saved her from 
Bardowieck's fate. 

The town of Brunswick (Braunschweig) toward 
which we were heading, first became known as the 
stronghold of this same Duke Henry the Lion of Sax- 
ony, one of the Guelfs — a high-handed, quarrelsome 
fellow who caused Barbarossa no end of trouble and 
was finally impeached, in the Diet, by Conrad of 
Hohenzollern. Conrad was burgave of Nuremberg, 
one of Barbarossa's right-hand men, and the pioneer 
of that house of Hohenzollern whose descendant is 
now king of Prussia and German emperor. Kaiser 
Friedrich Barbarossa grew tired of Henry's machina- 
tions and overthrew him in 1180, which put an end 
to the powerful duchy of Saxony; though it did not, 
apparently, do more than clip Henry's wings and 
confine his warlike proclivities to a limited area. It 
seems strange that descendants of Henry and of Con- 
rad are now cousins, and respectively king of England 
and ruler of the German empire. 

Approaching Liineburg we crossed a portion of the 
III 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

well-known Liineburger Heide (moor). It was too 
early for the purple heather to be abloom, and though 
the Young Ladies sang "Roslein, Roslein, Roslein 
roth, Roslein auf der Heide" in most fetching tones, 
not a single wild rose came to view. But there were 
flowers galore in Germany; wherever we traveled the 
scarlet poppy and the blue cornflower grew by the 
wayside in profusion. Among the stalks of yellow 
grain they twinkled as far as the eye could penetrate 
and, where the wheat was short or sparse, whole fields 
were red or blue with them, or both red and blue. 
Neither France nor England showed their equal. 
They lend to the landscape a bright, happy charm not 
easily described. It is a wonder to me that the Ger- 
man national colors are not red, blue and yellow. 

A pretty picture, too, the women make as they work 
in the fields with the men. Anywhere between the 
ages of six and sixty you may find them engaged in 
agricultural pursuits. The younger ones are generally 
pretty. They go barefooted as a rule, and had they 
worn shoes their skirts would scarcely have reached 
their shoe-tops ; their fine throats, and firm round arms 
exposed to the elbow, show the summer's tan, but sun- 
bonnets protect their rosy cheeks, and from this shelter 
red lips and flashing teeth, dimples and merry blue eyes 
^how at their best. "Maud Mullers," Mater dubbed 
them, as they paused in their work to lean upon a 
take and watch us, or to wave or call a cheery greet- 
ing. 

"Yes, yes, boys," remarked Pater, "this is beautiful, 
picturesque Germany. Now, if I were a young man 

like you scamps, the er" catching sight of 

Mater's expectant face, he concluded, "the auto 
wouldn't go so fast; that's all I can say." 

Liineburg is a quaint old town with manv gabled 

112 



HAMBURG TO BRUNSWICK 

houses in which each story, supported on curiously 
carved brackets, projects beyond the one beneath. We 
passed the Nikolaikirche and got a glimpse of the 
towering spire of the Johanniskirche, and of the Rat- 
haus with its odd, buttressed Renaissance front and 
hipped roof surmounted by a belfry. The Youth tar- 
ried so long for postcards that Pater vetoed a stop to 
look at the medieval paintings and carvings treasured 
in the Rathaus. Liineburg, later a Hansestadt (Han- 
seatic city), was, with its dependencies, one of the 
ancient inheritances of the Welf, or Guelf, family. 

Departing southward we again traversed a section 
of the Heide, and the ladies, at this early season, once 
more scanned the heath fruitlessly for Heidenroslein. 
But the "horrid men" discovered something they de- 
clared more interesting, and that was peat-cutting; in 
many boggy places neat squares of peat had been cut 
and piled up to dry. At Melbeck we branched to the 
left and followed the Ilmenau river as far as Bienen- 
biittel. Here we took the wrong turn, crossing the 
river on one of those queer stone bridges that rise 
high in the middle of the span, forming an actual hill. 
The poor condition of the road made us suspect an 
error, and inquiries proved we were off the highway, 
so, back went the car, over the hilly bridge — ^to the 
round-eyed amazement of a barefoot Gdnseliesel who 
had much ado to keep her geese in order in the face of 
such a monster. 

''Liesel, Hebes Liesel, was raschelt im Stroh? 

Sind die kleinen Ganschen, sie ha'n keine Schuh, 
Schuster hat's Leder, kein' Leisten dazu, 

D'rum kann er dem Ganschen auch machen kein' 
Schuh." 

One of the Young Ladies hummed this old German 
lullaby with which Humperdinck begins his opera 

113 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

"Hansel und Gretel." "I think it's so comical," she 
added, "to impute the wearing of shoes to geese when 
the little girls who tend them probably never owned a 
pair." In "Koenigskinder," Humperdinck makes us 
acquainted with the goose girl and with the lovable 
character and idol of the children, Spielmann — the 
village fiddler — living representative of the minstrel of 
old, once idolized by grown-up children. The Cas- 
tles discovered Spielmann for us years ago, but he is 
not necessarily the old man they depict. 

Passing through Jelmsdorf, Taeterdorf, and Kirch- 
weihe, we drew into Uelzen. "Aha!" cries Pater, 
"well figured, eh, Bobbie? Uelzen and lunch time. 
Besides, the trumpeter is anxious to wet his whistle." 
And he raised his horn for a long blast with an extra 
flourish. 

He had, as you may gather, purchased a horn some- 
what similar to the one we had seen in Holland, and 
it proved very useful. A peasant driving a rattling 
cart often failed to hear the usual deep-toned honk of 
an auto-horn, but with our bugle we could "fetch" him 
over half a mile away. Pater had become quite ex- 
pert at working the four tubes and two pistons, and 
his efforts elicited the small boy's applause everywhere. 

At Uelzen we drove to the Stadt Hamburg, a large, 
well-kept inn; its plain exterior is redeemed by tables 
along the wall, each in an alcove of trellised ivy. A 
step thraugh the hospitable portal discloses a spacious 
staircase, with landing and double, upper flights, lead- 
ing to a ballroom on the second floor. One is re- 
minded not only of stairs in colonial mansions of Vir- 
ginia, but also that our old roadhouses often boasted 
ballrooms patronized by the neighboring gentry. On 
the ground floor is a large taproom whose dais has 
tables where the Stammgdste (original or long-stand- 

114 




THE OLD MILL. 




HOTEL STADT HAAIBI'RG. 

UELZEN. 



{P. 114.) 



HAMBURG TO BRUNSWICK 

ing patrons) may quaff their potations in envied and 
undisturbed complacency. Further back, is a series of 
alcoves in one of which we enjoyed a simple, but ex- 
cellent, repast; potatoes and kale done to a turn, 
sugar peas, delicious roast vension, fine coffee and good 
local beer. Well-known German wines were at our 
disposal; even real icewater appeared by special re- 
quest. Often, in cathedral towns of England, was 
there occasion to regret the distance separating us from 
the good, appetizing fare provided in most insignifi- 
cant German towns. 

The one regret at Uelzen was that our idea of lunch 
time, noon, did not agree with mine host's by a good 
three-quarters of an hour; we might have profitably 
employed this interval at Liineburg, admiring the 
treasures in the Rathaus. The time was not quite 
v/asted, however, for the ladies had a chance to look 
over the house as well as furbish up their dusty plu- 
mage, while Pater quizzed mine host and two motorists 
(General Somebody and his secretary Herr von Some- 
body Else) regarding roads and routes, and received 
much information, courteously given. Scoffy and the 
Youth amused themselves diving into quaint alleys and 
queer driveways, which never betrayed the slightest 
indication where they would emerge. 

As an aid to digestion, a walk about town was un- 
dertaken, which resulted in the discovery of a little 
twelfth century church, seldom visited by strangers, 
shown to us by the pastor himself, and containing a 
number of interesting antiquities. Every street dis- 
played examples of venerable gabled houses, whose 
timberwork was often covered with carved inscrip- 
tions commemorating special events in the owner's 
life, accompanied by Biblical and religious allusions, 
and seldom failing to ask a blessing on the home. In- 

115 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

deed, all through Germany, such inscriptions abound, 
in town and country, on house and barn alike. Of the 
few examples in England, perhaps the God's Provi- 
dence House, in Chester, will be best known to the 
reader ; and this is not as quaintly personal and ingen- 
uous as most of those. 

From Uelzen a splendid road led via Holdenstedt, 
Sprackensehl and Gross Oesingen, to Gifhorn. It 
carried us through fine forests — Forst Breitehees and 
the Maseler Wald — and through the moors of Brut- 
lags Heide. Gifhorn is a little old place slumbering 
peacefully where the Use flows into the Aller; a 
weatherbeaten castle overlooked the jumble of tile 
roofs and timbered gables, and as we approached, the 
rusty vane on its one square tower would have been 
the only moving object in sight had not its creaking 
revolutions started up some rooks from the eaves 
below. 

The town looked like a section of old Nuremberg or 
of Rothenburg-on-the-Tauber, gone astray and fallen 
asleep at this scheduled spot. We did meet a few peo- 
ple in the streets at first, but when we had lost our 
way — having made a detour on account of street re- 
pairs — there was not a soul in sight, and we had to 
inquire at a house. A barefoot boy, who came rush- 
ing out at the sight of the stopping car, conquered his 
astonishment long enough to point out the "Chaussee 
nach Braunschweig/' and an old crone who happened 
along, drawing an enormous load of brush and fagots, 
confirmed the child's directions. The lad appeared to 
regard her with suspicion, seeming more afraid of her 
ugly wrinkled face than of the huge car with its roar- 
ing motor. As this was the land of Grimm he may 
have thought himself in the midst of a fairy tale, for 
his wide-open mouth and wondering eyes seemed to 

ii6 




INSCRIPTION ON HOUSE AT XJELZEN. (P. I15.) 

" Even though the face of Heaven and all nature change, he will not 
be forsaken who trusts in God the Lord. 

" In prosperity do not exalt thyself, in adversity do not despair; for 
good is the man who can bear all misfortune." 



HAMBURG TO BRUNSWICK 

express a query which of us would vanish first, and 
how; would the car, with the ogres in goggles and the 
fairy princesses becomingly veiled, fade into thin air, 
or would the old hag suddenly fly away on a broom- 
stick after the manner of all well-behaved village 
witches? When we started off with a honk and a 
rush he scuttled back into the house. 

It is quite evident that the older generation of peas- 
ants regards an automobile with some superstition — 
an omen of bad luck, if nothing worse; many may be 
seen to cross themselves, or spit in the road, or throw 
a stick or stone over the shoulder. This is not sur- 
prising when one considers the light in which even 
well-informed people of other days regarded the steam 
railroad for some years after its introduction. Some 
of our relatives abroad could not be bribed to ride in 
an automobile; and many people remember great - 
aunts and grandmothers who would not for the world 
have ridden in those early railroad trains, and who 
were not ashamed to admit it. 

Not so with the younger generation; I fear you 
could abduct any youth or maid in all Germany with 
the lure of an "out-o" ride, as they call it. The fa^ 
mous Pied Piper would have had a much easier task 
and a more expeditious fulfilment of It, had he pos- 
sessed an automobile large enough to accommodate 
the children of Hamelin. 

Shortly beyond Glfhorn our road crossed the Aller 
Canal and the railroad to Hanover. Crossroads now 
become very frequent, but by keeping straight ahead 
we had no trouble in making Brunswick, arriving at 
about four-thirty after a pleasant run of one-hundred 
and ten miles' actual travel, the map mileage being 
one-hundred and eight. 

. - "7 



CHAPTER IV. 
BRUNSWICK. 

JUNE 23RD. 

SOME fortunate people there are who, by a 
dispensation of Providence, seem elected pro- 
teges of Clio; to them the wonderfully and 
fearfully made tablets of the world's history are clear 
as day; facts, figures, dates, descents, epoch-making 
events and interminable pedigrees, roll from their 
tongues as easily and unaffectedly as one might say 
who Richard Mansfield was, or state the record for the 
hundred-yard dash. They will tell you who was 
crowned king of a certain country hundreds of years 
ago, and when and why and where, as readily as you 
or I could announce that June is the month of roses, 
or that oysters should be eschewed between April and 
September. 

We others, ordinary mortals, are guiltless of any- 
thing save a vague recollection of facts relentlessly 
drummed into us at school but soon forgotten; in us, 
fair Clio hardly inspires even a little curiosity. But 
when she points her finger at Brunswick the most un- 
mindful displays a certain amount of interest; grant- 
ing you are indifferent to the fact that Henry the Lion 
(whose history is inseparable from that of the city and 
duchy of Brunswick) is one of the forebears of the 
present reigning house of England, still another test 
awaits you. 

119 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Probably your first pilgrimage in this town of Welfs 
will lead to the venerable cathedral. Burg Dankwarde- 
rode's striking tower is visible at quite a distance ; its 
overhanging gallery, directly below the peaked roof, 
carries you back at a bound to the Middle Ages be- 
cause of its sinister purpose — to enable the besieged to 
pour hot tar, scalding water, boiling oil or molten lead 
upon the heads of the besiegers. Dankwarderode is 
now but a fragment of the castle erected, in 1180, by 
Henry the Lion to replace the original Burg (castle) 
said to have been founded in 861 by Dankwart, son of 
Duke Ludolf of Saxony. Passing around the end of 
the Burg you enter the Burgplatz,* appropriately 
framed on two other sides by the cathedral and a 
group of fine, old, timbered buildings ; of these latter, 
the Gildehaus (Huneborstel Haus) dating from 1536, 
is remarkable for its florid color decoration. The 
strangest feature of the square is on the grass-grown 
triangle in its center — the bronze statue of a lion, 
erected by Henry the Lion in 1 1 66 as a symbol of his 
supremacy. Viewed face to face it resembles some 
strange bird rather than a quadruped ; of what species, 
it would be hard to say, yet undoubtedly a bird of prey 
and, as such, singularly characteristic of Henry as well 
as of many other "rulers by the grace of God" during 
these parlous times. 

You are now free to devote attention to the cathe- 
dral of St. Blasius. The sacristan's little daughter 
unlocks a door in the west portal with a huge iron 
key, preceding you into a dark, damp vestibule under 
the organ loft. As you pause for a moment to accus- 
tom your eyes to the gloom, a dank, crypt-like odor 
assails your nostrils, a chill strikes to your very bones 



*Platz — square, 

120 



'"' ^l|W|iWM^B55S5!y -z: 





CENOTAPH ON SIDE OF CATHEDRAL. (P. 130.) 




BURGPLATZ, FBAMED BY FINE OLD TIMBERED 
BUILDINGS." (P. 120.) 

BRUNSWICK. 



BRUNSWICK 

and you feel as though you had inadvertently stepped 
into a tomb. The church is an epitome of everything 
medievally German : the defunct Holy Roman Empire 
claims it for its own. The Romanesque vaulted nave, 
borne on columns, dates from the twelfth century ; the 
double Gothic south aisle was added in the fourteenth 
century; the north aisle (also double) with its curious 
twisted columns suggestive of Lombard influence, in 
the fifteenth. The south transept, the choir, and the 
apse show the original Romanesque mural painting of 
the beginning of the thirteenth century. 

In monuments and relics the church has also fur- 
nished important contributions to the history of art. 
The monument to its founder (Henry the Lion) and 
his consort Matilda, is a Romanesque work from the 
middle of the thirteenth century, the remarkable altar 
being a gift of Matilda's and the strange seven- 
branched candelabrum a present from Henry. The 
south transept contains curious, carved wood figures, 
a drinking-horn of Henry's, a crozier, Gothic mon- 
strances, etc. ; the north transept has a stone sarcoph- 
agus (that of Henry's grandmother) and more wood 
carvings — crucifixes and passion pillars, with figures 
displaying grotesque postures or horrid, gaping 
wounds — strange, ghastly, horrible. Yet the anti- 
quary and the archaeologist might gloat over them. 
With a feeling of relief you escape the clutch of that 
dead empire and descend into the crypt where the col- 
lection of modern cofifins looks positively cheerful by 
contrast. 

The coffin with the glass tube and indicator, pointed 
out as belonging to a duke who was afraid of being 
buried alive, seems quite "human" and modem and 
far less gruesome than some of those crude, barbarous 
figures above. It must not be inferred that the dukes 

121 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

of Brunswick were afraid of death; among the forty- 
five persons entombed here, nine of the men fell on 
the field of battle. The recitation of their guttural 
names and of the places where they fell becomes mo- 
notonous, so you turn for a reinspection of the huge 
double coffin containing the remains of Frederick the 
Great's parents-in-law, and mentally vote it an un- 
pleasantly conspicuous display of the panoply of 
death. 

Perhaps at this juncture the little guide will lisp 
some words about the "queen who died of a broken 
heart." Ha! what's that? Here is something for 
your money. Who died of a broken heart, and why? 
You approach the coffin indicated, and it gives you a 
start to read upon the plate, half hidden by withered 
wreaths and dead rose-leaves, the words "Caroline of 
Brunswick, wife of King George IV of England." 

Right here, unless I fail miserably in my prediction, 
you begin to display a lively interest in history, and do 
not rest until you have found out all about poor, sim- 
ple, ingenuous Caroline. Amid shouts, the blare of 
trumpets, and salvos of artillery, she left her home to 
become the bride of the "first gentleman of Europe." 
It was not a love match ; but neither George, nor any 
other prince of the time had the right to expect one. 
She possessed no great beauty, nor even wit; but she 
was kindly and bright and generous, and she would 
have loved him — drunk as he was the very day he mar- 
ried her, and dissolute and faithless ever after. Though 
she resorted to follies and extravagances in retalia- 
tion of his desertion, no wrong has ever been justly 
imputed to her; and, certainly, the "first gentleman of 
Europe" — petted and spoiled beyond all reason and, 
apparently, out of all his own reason, by the English 
people — owed at least formal courtesy and considera- 

122 



BRUNSWICK 

tion to the Princess of Wales, his wife. When forcibly 
denied admission to the coronation ceremonies of her 
husband, the last straw was added to her burden and 
her heart gave way. 

George's mother wished him to marry another 
cousin — beautiful Louise of Strelitz, famous later on 
as the unfortunate Queen Louise of Prussia — but 
financial considerations determined the choice. One 
is tempted to speculate whether Louise would have 
fared better or worse than Caroline. Reason says, 
"probably worse," for lack of unlimited money pinched 
George more than many another thing. 

Moreover, beauty and wit did not always contribute 
to a happy solution of these complex situations. For 
example, another George (first of his name to rule 
England) married the great beauty, Sophia Dorothea 
of Zell; rich, witty, attractive and accomplished to a 
great degree, surely she should have been able to con- 
sort amiably with a husband who was shrewd, quiet, 
good-natured, and reasonably faithful as morals went 
in those days. 

But no ! She finds him cold and unsympathetic ; de- 
clares she loathes him, yet is, at the same time, insanely 
jealous. What with her heartaches and exaggerated 
wrongs, she foolishly encourages an admirer of child- 
hood days, Philip of Konigsmarck, an engaging youth 
who had already figured as heavy villain on another 
stage. Repeated warnings from her quiet husband 
and his parents have no effect, and she carried her 
imprudence to the point of planning an elopement with 
young Konigsmarck during her husband's absence. 
This was the end: the youthful villain, betrayed by 
another woman to whom he had been making love, is 
killed resisting the soldiers sent to arrest him; and 
beautiful Sophia, divorced by her husband, had to 

123 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

spend glorious youth as well as tlie rest of her days, 
iiimiured in the castle of Ahlden — thirty-two dreary 
years. 

Not all these romantic tales are sad ones; George 
III, for instance, was more fortunate. They say he 
chose the little Princess Charlotte of ]\Iecklenburg- 
Strelitz simply because he admired a letter she had 
written; chose her, and promptly sent for her. She 
was playing in the gardens at Strelitz, so the story 
goes, discussing sweethearts with the other girls. 
"Who will take such a poor little princess as me?" she 
exclaimed. A postilion's honi sounded, and one of 
ihe girls cried, "There is the sweetheart!" And so it 
proved, for tlie messenger brought letters which stated 
that the king of England wanted her for his wife. 
Needless to say she agreed gladly, and they were the 
happiest couple there ever was. 

Again, we have George II, who married Caroline 
of Anspach, a beauty renowned for wit and learning, 
who, for the sake of her Protestant religion, refused 
an archduke — a future emperor. She worshiped her 
husband and was a most faithful and devoted wife; 
and he, though anything but faithful, really admired 
and loved her very much, too, in his selfish way. 

Ah, me! what stirring times of adventure and 
romance ; what golden hours of love gone to waste for 
those who were too proud, too dull, too blind, to see 
and understand. "If Youth But Knew!" as the Castles 
so aptly phrased it. Have you ever read their charm- 
ing tales of romantic Germany? 

Had we made a slight detour, we might have come 
to Braunschweig via Zell (Celle) and seen there the 
ancestral home of the beautiful Sophia Dorothea — a 
former castle of the dukes of Brunswick-Liineburg. 
She lies buried in the vault of the parish church at 

124 



BRUNSWICK 

Celle, which — strange coincidence! — also contains the 
remains of the Danish queen, Caroline Matilda. By- 
birth an English princess, this queen ruined her life 
through indiscretions with a court physician and was, 
likewise, banished from her kingdom. Moreover, that 
gloomy palace in Osnabriick, that "palace without a 
king" which so depressed us, was where George I of 
England died. Perhaps Sophia Dorothea's ghost came 
there to vex him ; perhaps it is stalking there yet — the 
true cause of the chill, distressing atmosphere which 
pervades the place. 

Had we been blessed with Clio's favor and its at- 
tendant insight into things historical, we should un- 
doubtedly have gone some two hours further out of 
our way, and have visited not only Celle, but also the 
town of Hanover, before driving to Brunswick. There 
we should have seen the palace and gardens of Herren- 
hausen — this miniature Versailles of manners and 
morals well-nigh incredible to our twentieth century 
ideas — where the electors of Hanover and the Georges 
of England aped prevailing fashions. The present 
province of Hanover, you see, runs all around the 
duchy, or state, of Brunswick, which resembles a lit- 
tle group of Brunswick islands in the corner of a big 
sea of Hanover. 

What a fraud ! you exclaim. The idea of taking us 
to Brunswick and then palming off on us the history 
of Hanover. Yet this very thing illustrates a point I 
am anxious to explain. The story of Germany, of the 
Holy Roman Empire, or of any part of It, is a dread- 
fully complex affair. One cannot undertake to tell 
any of it without putting the cart before the horse, 
and another horse in front of that cart, and so on, till 
you have a complete circle of them. The hardest puz- 
zle ever devised does not offer half the difficulty. It 

125 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

reminds me of the well-known puzzle "pigs in clover" : 
you chase one pig into the pen and the others get 
away; then you go after the others, and the first one 
escapes you. The name, too, seems ludicrously ap- 
propriate, at least in many instances ; though it hardly 
applies to the earlier princes who were, rather, wolves 
in the sheepfold. As such, they held no sinecure either 
for there were other wolves galore, and the whole 
game was played to the rule of "might is right." 

English history is child's play in comparison. But 
then, the story of the Holy Roman Empire was, one 
might almost say, the history of the civilized world 
for many long years after Charlemagne — England 
being an insignificant little place beyond the pale of 
society.* 

However, let us summon up courage and make a 
start somewhere in the history of the Welfs; being 
dukes of Bavaria they were very big wolves in the 
fold, as were the dukes of Saxony. A certain Welf 
(Henry the Proud) married the daughter of Lothar 
of Saxony. Now this duke of Saxony was a candidate 
for the imperial throne, and his son-in-law helped him 
to get it. What more natural, than that Lothar 
should present the now vacant duchy of Saxony to his 
useful son-in-law ? Thus the Welfs first came to Sax- 
ony and Brunswick. 

Lothar had a continuous fight against the rest of the 
big wolf pack, to hold his throne. When he died, the 
opposition elected their emperor, who at once put 



*For a long time tlie duke of Normandy' (a small person com- 
pared with a Holy Roman emperor) held a much more powerful 
and desirable position in the world than the king of England. 
Indeed, it was not till the time of Edward Ill's victories iu 
France that England was favored with general notice — not till 
long after these, that she really became a world-power. 

126 



BRUNSWICK 

Henry the Proud under the ban, and presented Sax- 
ony and Bavaria to some of his own adherents — pro- 
vided they could take possession. A foxy strain, 
you see, in some of these old wolves. During the 
struggle Henry died, leaving a ten-year-old son, Henry 
the Lion. The senior Henry's widow married again; 
this formed a basis of adjustment : her second husband 
getting Bavaria, and her son the duchy of Saxony. So 
far, so good. But young Henry the Lion, son of a 
"proud" father, would not rest content; having made 
conquests and gained adherents, he began to consider 
himself bigger than the emperor. Unfortunately for 
Henry, the emperor was now the great red wolf, Bar- 
barossa, master of them all. Barbarossa had inaugu- 
rated courts of justice, a novelty in those days, and had 
displayed a certain amount of consideration for the 
small wolves — nay, for the very sheep. Consequently, 
when he marched on Henry, the latter's friends fell 
away, and "the lion" had to bow to his master. 

Saxony, taken from him, was divided; he retained 
only Brunswick and Liineburg. In search of support 
and aggrandizement, he married Matilda, the daugh- 
ter of Henry II of England, and from this union 
sprang several sons, one of whom was named William. 
William's son Otto was the first duke of Brunswick- 
Liineburg; Celle and Hanover were added to this 
duchy and her rulers afterward became electors of 
Hanover. Thus it is that the English house of Han- 
over were Welfs and first came from Brunswick. 
Eventually another line, Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel, 
reigned over Brunswick. 

George I was even closer to England, as his mother, 
electress of Hanover, was a granddaughter of James 
I. Being the nearest eligible Protestant in the succes- 
sion, George was called from his electorate of Hanover 

127 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

to the throne of England. A German king, unable to 
speak a word of English, who roared his sonorous 
German — God save the mark! — in the palace of St. 
James; truth to tell, it was good German, the Han- 
overians being noted for the purest diction and pro- 
nunciation in all Germany. Poor England! with her 
Normans, Welsh, Scotch, Dutch, and Germans — how 
long it is since she has had an English king ! 

A truce to these dry tales. After all, we entered 
Brunswick, not as students, but as tourists out for a 
holiday, and such let us remain. A bridge over the 
moat at the Wendenthor brought us into the town. 
This moat is really a branch of the Oker river which 
has been divided and, after encircling the town, is per- 
mitted to reunite and go on its way rejoicing; water 
was once of greater importance strategically than it 
now is commercially. We followed the trolley-tracks 
to the Hagenmarkt and not seeing our hotel, the 
"Deutsches Haus," pushed on to the next square, 
where we found it. This was our usual mode of en- 
tering or passing through most of the larger towns, 
and it is a good one ; when you see a trolley-track, fol- 
low it; it will almost invariably lead to the market 
place. 

On the market place, or near it, you will generally 
find the principal sights and the best hotels or, in 
small places, the only ones. Of course, this plan does 
not apply so well in large cities, but even here it pays 
to follow the trolleys, as they usually lead to the center 
of the town. On the Markt (market place) or on the 
main street, you will always find policemen or citizens 
to direct you. Should you desire to pass through a 
fairly large town or a small city it is always advisable 
to find your way to the market or the city hall, first of 
all. Once there, ask for the street leading to the next 

128 



BRUNSWICK 

town en route. It is best to inquire repeatedly, for 
similar names and landmarks, or your failure to recog- 
nize landmarks given, may mislead you. 

The "Deutsches Haus" is centrally located and 
has many windows overlooking the Burgplatz. A 
hatrack garnished with swords and belts and many- 
colored military caps first called our attention to its 
army patronage. This alone is, in Germany, a sign 
of excellence, as the best hotel is none too good for 
the officers. A few years ago we should have seen, 
across the square, the old buildings of the Pauline con- 
vene; but they have been razed, and we could only 
trace the outline of arch and vaulting on the walls of 
the adjacent structures. The debris was covered, not 
— as you might conjecture — with a growth of weeds, 
but with a beautiful, purplish mantle of flowers, 
reminiscent of the buried cloister garden. 

Braunschweig is a treasure house of half-timbered 
buildings, surpassing Osnabruck in this respect. Cer- 
tain vistas of its tiled roofs with crazy gables, dormers, 
eyelets, and chimney-pots, in endless variety, recall the 
famous views over the roofs of Nuremberg and of 
Meissen. Scoffy and the Youth took great delight in 
losing themselves among narrow, winding streets and 
alleys overshadowed by venerable gables and queer, 
leaning, timbered walls. They managed to escape from 
the maze only with the aid of various church towers, 
and of the post-office, always an easily recognized 
landmark because of its crowning framework to which 
all the telegraph wires in town converge. 

With this wealth of medieval dwellings adorned by 
many an old motto, it is perhaps natural the citizens 
should have preserved a decidedly "Gothic" turn of 
mind; travelers who have had the opportunity of be- 
coming intimately acquainted, assert that the towns- 

129 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

folk's firm belief in fairies, witches and goblins, in 
omens, proverbs, and quaint superstitious customs is 
remarkable. At the same time, a frank, innate humor 
and mother-wit make their superstition appear almost 
convincing. Indeed, the Liineburg district just tra- 
versed has contributed largely to fairy and folk lore, 
being specially noted for its H einzelmdnnchen — a kind 
of brownie or friendly house-goblin — who secretly per- 
form a deal of work about one's home, but sharply 
resent criticism or observation; they often foretell 
events and give friendly warnings. An authentic 
Heinschen appeared, from 1584-88, in castle Huden- 
miihlen on the Aller, and in the neighboring castle of 
Ahlden. 

Memorials to great men and prominent characters 
abound not only in the public squares, but on the sides 
of buildings and in other unexpected places. A column 
in the Stadtpark* commemorates General Olfermann, 
who led the Brunswick troops at Waterloo. In St. 
Leonhard's Platz is a monument to Schill, the Prus- 
sian officer who tried to create a popular uprising 
against Napoleon ; receiving little support and being 
surrounded by Napoleon's Dutch and Westphalian 
allies at Stralsund, he and most of his adherents fell, 
fighting. Eleven officers were taken and executed at 
Wesel by Napoleon's command; fourteen soldiers 
were shot in Brunswick, and their bodies (together 
with Schill's head) were interred at the spot now 
marked by his monument. The year 1809 was "a year 
full of glory and disaster," so the inscription states. 

An interesting monument is the Till Eulenspiegel 
Brunnen (fountain). Its odd conceit (Till Eulenspie- 
gel talking to an audience of monkeys and owls) refers 

*Sta(it— city. 

130 



BRUNSWICK 

to the forms of cakes he baked while a journeyman 
but, to my mind, it also cleverly symbolizes his mon- 
keyshines which always had a very substantial basis 
of shrewdness and wisdom. 

Venerable buildings are so numerous one can 
hardly mention all ; of these, the old weigh-house ( Alte 
Wage), the Gewandhaus, the old L-shaped Rathaus 
(with its two-story Gothic arcade), the Vaterlandische 
Museum, and a dozen or more patrician dwellings are 
truly gems. Nor is it possible to adequately describe 
the fine old churches — several, originally Romanesque 
basilicas — filled with treasures of art. 

There is a peculiar charm about these churches, bare 
and angular though they be. At sundown, go stand 
on the Hagenmarkt, opposite the narrow, sparingly 
ornamented front of the Katherinenkirche ; look up 
to the great Gothic bell-chamber window embraced by 
the towers; look still higher, to where doves are cir- 
cling round the spires silhouetted against the evening 
sky, and you will agree that it is a rarely impressive 
sight. The longer you look the more you will be im- 
pressed, until, as you gaze, the voices of children on 
the square fade away in the hush of evening, and your 
thoughts travel back through ages, pondering on the 
strange scenes and startling changes those gaunt gray 
towers have witnessed. They alone have survived 
that varicolored, ever-shifting picture on the square ; 
now they frown on you, outlandish pigmy, standing on 
this German Markt where the rush of life has gone 
surging by for near a thousand years. Food for re- 
flection this certainly affords, and an unusual insight 
into the "faith that makes faithful", suggested by the 
lines, "This world is all a fleeting show, For man's il- 
lusion given." Meanwhile night has fallen and a fitful, 
wavering light flickers on the corner house of Wenden 

131 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Strasse. You are almost convinced it is cast by the 
lanthorn of the "night watch" whom you momentarily 
expect to see striking his staff upon the stones and cry- 
ing, 

"Listen, my friends, and let me tell you, 

The clock's struck nine, and it were well you 

Covered your fire and prayed to the Lord ; 
For He alone brings the morrow." 

But the light quickly grows into a steady glare, a 
bell clangs, and the noisy trolley-car sweeping into the 
Markt startles you from your reverie. 

Among Brunswick's legends the most remarkable 
concerns Henry the Lion. His absence in foreign 
climes exceeded even the seven years' limit set by him- 
self. After unusual hardships and adventures he 
reached home to learn that his wife, having given him 
up for lost, was about to marry a young noble ; and 
the wedding festivities had already begun when Henry, 
in pilgrim's guise, reached the castle gate and requested 
a beaker of wine poured by the duchess' hand. She 
could not refuse the request of a holy pilgrim on the 
eve of her marriage. Dropping his seal ring into the 
gold beaker, Henry returned it; whereupon the duch- 
ess hurried out to hear what news this pilgrim might 
bring. Of course — or shall we say, fortunately — she 
was overjoyed to see her lost spouse, and her prospec- 
tive bridegroom was wedded to Henry's ward, a rich 
Prankish princess. Henry was accompanied by a lion 
he had saved from death, and which had, in turn, 
saved him from starvation by going hunting while he 
lay sick. Some say the carved lion at the foot of 
Henry's efHgy, as well as the curious bronze statue on 
the square, commemorates this faithful beast. 

The origin of the name Welf (whelp) is explained 
132 



BRUNSWICK 

in several ingenuous stories, all somewhat similar. A 
countess of Bavaria's Ravensprung line grew very 
much exercised when the stork brought triplets to the 
wife of a retainer, and said, very plainly, she con- 
sidered it an evidence of faithlessness and thought the 
mother should be drowned — the penalty paid by un- 
faithful wives. But Heaven vindicated the happy 
mother; for the countess gave birth to twelve boys at 
one time and thus stood condemned out of her own 
mouth should her lord concur in her previous opinion. 
He was absent at this time, so the countess persuaded 
an aged tirewoman to take away eleven of the babes, 
with a view to drowning them. The count chanced 
to meet the woman and inquired what her burden was ; 
she replied, "Only eleven little whelps for drowning." 
In spite of her protestations he insisted upon looking at 
the puppies, and, at sight of eleven tiny boys, soon got 
her confession of the whole story. The count was 
wroth, but confined his revenge to secretly raising the 
children and then confronting his wife with them, at 
the same time decreeing that his descendants should 
bear the name Welf. 

You must not be alarmed at a tale of twelve chil- 
dren; the old German chroniclers were comparatively 
moderate. From the village of Leusden, near The 
Hague, comes a story of a noblewoman (some say a 
countess of Henneberg) who entertained similar sus- 
picions of a beggar woman just because she carried 
twins in her arms ; the woman turned on the countess 
with a curse, saying "May you give birth to as many 
children as there are days in the year." This did oc- 
cur, in the year of our Lord, 1270, and Bishop Guido 
of Utrecht baptized the 365, naming the boys John and 
the girls Elizabeth. The countess and her children 
died, but the local church treasured the brass basins in 

133 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

which "zyn alle deze kinderen gedoopt,"* and the 
church at Delft erected a tablet commemorating this 
marvel. 

It would hardly be fair to leave Braunschweig with- 
out mentioning the present ducal palace, a large 
Renaissance structure with a great quadriga above its 
central portico. Quite a remarkable quadriga, clev- 
erly constructed by Howaldt out of sheets of copper 
lest its weight prove too heavy for the foundations. 
Pater declared the palace "an old barracks," but he was 
probably annoyed, like the rest of us, to find that it did 
not harmonize with picturesque Brunswick. A friend, 
who spent school days in this charming town, inquired 
had we seen the palace and the quadriga; I assured 
him that the quadriga was still driving westward over 
Brunswick, though — since it is symbolical of modern 
progress riding roughshod over beloved antiquities — I 
added sotto voce, that it had not advanced an inch 
and I hoped it never would. 

That night an important "diet" was held, not in the 
House of the Diet near the Altstadt-Rathaus, but in a 
sitting-room of the Deutsches Haus. It concerned the 
progress of- our little American colony ; and advocates 
of this or that plan made earnest speeches to carry 
their point. The condition of roads and the steepness 
of their grades were weighed and balanced ; lengths of 
runs were computed in kilometers, reduced to miles, 
and then to running time. Questions of meal hours, 
daylight, gasoline, the choice of hotels, the relative 
importance of sights and the time required to see them 
had to be considered ; it was well toward midnight 
when our quandaries had been settled. The owner of 
a private car, as you begin to see, must, by continual 



*A11 these children were baptized. 

134 



BRUNSWICK 

inquiry and by constant study of his maps and guides, 
thresh out matters that a local chauffeur would have 
at his fingers' ends. 

At ten o'clock next morning, we started for Hildes- 
heim, leaving grim, immutable St. Catherine's still 
watching o'er the square, and the quadriga still stead- 
fastly heading westward. 



135 



CHAPTER V. 
BRUNSWICK TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM. 

JUNE 24TH^ MORNING 64 MILES. 

YEARS ago I listened to a comic song that cari- 
catured our German immigrants ; the burden of 
its chorus was, "the fatherland, the dear old 
fatherland, never sees them any more." These words 
kept recurring to me long after the rest of the song was 
forgotten, and I often wondered what that "father- 
land" they could so readily leave might be like ; not big 
cities nor stretches viewed from trains, but its towns, 
villages, and integral sections of country. Now that I 
have learned to know this "fatherland" and find it emi- 
nently lovable and livable, I stand amazed. What ir- 
repressible imagination and love of adventure its sons 
must have possessed to be lured from sunny Germany 
to a strange and distant land; or, in many instances, 
what depths of simplicity and gullibility, to accept liter- 
ally the figure of speech, "one can pick up a fortune on 
the streets of New York." 

The country in Germany, as in most of Europe, still 
illustrates feudal days, in that the peasants' houses are 
gathered in villages while their farms lie round about 
the village or, occasionally, at quite a distance. Morn- 
ing and evening you may meet wagonloads of peasants 
going to and from the fields, laughing, chattering and 
singing, or you may pass little groups trudging along, 
carrying rake and hoe and dinner-pail. German 
fields look good to American eyes. The landscape is 

137 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

bright and diversified without seeming depressingly 
small and confined, as in England; it presents fine 
reaches and perspectives without arousing the feeling 
of desolation inspired by the vast fields of northern 
France, which stretch for miles without chick or child 
or any living presence. 

The hamlets of France are, more often than not, bare 
and uninteresting; a wide street runs straight through 
them. With a whizz and a rush they are passed and 
you are among boundless fields once more. Should 
you slow down for caution's sake or for directions, you 
find the plain, square, stuccoed houses far from pleas- 
ing, while a disagreeable air of slovenliness is imparted 
to the main street by manure heaps and old wagons 
that, in a barnyard, would help to make a picturesque 
ensemble. 

German hamlets are a delight to the tourist. The 
eccentric meanderings to which the main street is often 
subject, forbid other than slow, careful driving; but 
the crooked, narrow way, the occasional cobblestone 
pavement and the unexpected gullies or gutters are 
paid for a hundredfold in the intimate view of these 
entertaining little places. 

Here we find strange half-timbered structures of 
brick or stucco with tiled or thatched roofs mossy with 
age, quaint little shops, houses with haylofts above — 
their owners laboriously tossing hay over the front 
door into the attic; and more pretentious domiciles 
where house and barns enclose a courtyard — proud 
structures, with enormous tile roofs often boasting 
two superposed rows of eyelet windows, the walls dis- 
playing In rusty Iron numerals the date of their erec- 
tion one or two hundred years ago. Maybe they will 
bear Inscriptions stating how Hans, son of Helnrlch 
So-and-So erected this building to replace the home- 

138 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

stead destroyed in the terrible fire of such a date, with 
a few remarks to the effect that "had the Lord not 
given He could not have taken away," that Hans' faith 
remained unshaken, etc., etc. 

Did you ever chance to read the history of Continen- 
tal towns? Fire was their worst enemy. Excepting 
those that lay in the path of war, the tale is a monot- 
onous chronicle of a murder or two, a few robberies, 
contagious diseases and cattle plagues, factional quar- 
rels, marriages, deaths, droughts, conscriptions, and 
what not, until you reach one of their fires ; then you 
get a lurid, terrifying calamity. Very few have not 
suffered three or four terrible conflagrations that left 
the town, or a great part of it, smouldering ruins. 

Almost every village displays a Warnung (warn- 
ing) tablet requesting the drivers of Kraftfahrzeuge 
(power-vehicles) to slow down to lo or 12 km. per 
hour. As there is no knowing what unexpected turns 
or blockades of vehicles may be ahead, it is advisable 
for a motorist to obey these directions ; except in sleepy 
old Gifhorn, most village streets were pretty busy. 

The picture of foreign life was enjoyed by all, bar- 
ring Bobbie, who I suspect, clung to the idea of cover- 
ing as much ground as possible and deplored all slow- 
ing down. He derived a certain grim amusement from 
the consternation called forth by the sudden appearance 
of a motorcar. Women shrieked in real, though good- 
humored excitement; fat burghers having the air of 
gouty councilmen, forgot to use their canes and 
skipped nimbly from side to side to avoid the car 
which appeared about to run upon the sidewalk. I 
cannot altogether blame them, either, for it took me 
years to realize what a very short turn a big touring- 
car may make. 

Once, while passing through a village beyond Cob- 

139 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

lenz, Bobbie made a sudden stop to allow some children 
their favorite pastime of running across our path in- 
stead of stepping on to the nearest sidewalk. We were 
immediately treated to a real, old-fashioned, blood- 
curdling curse. Some grandmother with superstition 
and dread written all over her, witnessing what she 
doubtless considered a miraculous escape, stepped up 
and cursed us; not in temper, but with a real, pious, 
medieval curse — involving past, present and future 
generations — so well-rounded and complete that it 
would have made her fortune in the melodrama. We 
all, especially Bobbie, laughed and enjoyed it; but 
when we got our first blowout shortly afterward. Pater 
exclaimed : 

"There! Robert, now you see what a well-sped 
curse will do." 

We judged that it would make for both safe and 
expeditious travel if our chauffeur did not have to 
bother his head about the route; on strange roads in 
a strange country, he had best keep his eyes on the 
roadway and approaching traffic to the exclusion of 
all other things, depending on us to give him his direc- 
tion. It was decided that, at night, he should overhaul 
his car first of all ; if he then had time and opportunity 
to inquire about routes and roads, well and good. We 
have since congratulated ourselves on this arrange- 
ment, for in a trip covering some 4500 miles we met 
with no accidents — running down but one dog and one 
chicken — and had no mechanical breakdown whatever. 

One of our party read the maps and announced in 
advance the turns to right and left,, the railroad cross- 
ings, danger points, etc., as well as landmarks and facts 
of general interest ; meantime, guidebooks were busily 
conned by others. The names of towns on either hand 
had to be learned, so that the signpost at each cross- 

140 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

road would verify our position; all towns ahead were 
noted, that no unexpected name should throw us off 
our bearings. Not an easy job, reading a map, pro- 
vided you wish to keep informed of your location and 
of things historical and geographical along the route. 
Signboards in Germany are so numerous that one may 
drive about without any maps whatever, if not inter- 
ested in knowing the countryside. 

To Pater, sitting on the front seat, was deputed the 
task of making inquiries when necessary, and of blow- 
ing the bugle when drivers failed to heed the honk of 
our regular horn. Probably a siren or a shrill whistle 
on the exhaust would have done the work of warning 
better ; but a whistle might be taken for a near-by loco- 
motive signal, and the siren might have made too 
many horses bolt to suit either our inclination or our 
safety. 

I fear Pater used unbecoming language regarding 
loads of hay. From behind, the driver of a load of hay 
proved very hard to warn and could not be passed un- 
less he turned out; had he occupied a seat on top of 
the load our task would have been easy, but he almost 
invariably sat, half-buried in hay, directly back of the 
horses. It was haying season in Germany, and this 
caused as much of a strain on Pater's feelings as did 
the countless flocks of sheep we met in England. The 
most primitive "hay wagon" in Germany is a man or a 
woman, hidden to view, plodding briskly along under 
a load of hay some eight or nine feet high and six feet 
wide ; there are also little carts, drawn by hand, carry- 
ing what we considered twice their legitimate burden ; 
the real wagons are drawn by oxen, horses, or cows, 
sometimes by a horse and a cow harnessed side by 
side in ludicrous yet amiable partnership. 

It is hard to leave these amusing scenes and inci- 

141 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

dents, but Hildesheim is near and, even as I write, I 
feel again the eager curiosity that stirred us as we ap- 
proached its gates. 

We had been loth to leave Brunswick; in the very- 
hour of departure, while baggage was being packed 
on roof and rack of the automobile — a work of no lit- 
tle skill on Bobbie's part — Pater and Mater jumped 
into a hack and took another fleeting look at the old 
place. The Youth felt it a cruel privation to be denied 
one last, parting plunge into the maze of crooked 
streets which speak so eloquently of days of long ago. 

Brunswick is said to be the most livable of ancient 
German towns ; but we were desirous of living in the 
past, not in the present, and as we entered the capital 
of the famous old bishopric, Brunswick's fascination 
faded rapidly before the charm of Hildesheim. 

Picture to yourself a steep street, tall gables over- 
hanging so far that you instinctively glance up to 
make sure they do not meet overhead. Everywhere 
about you hums a quaint, yet homely life. Old wives 
gossip at the corners; pedestrians, swarming on the 
roadway, jostle each other good-naturedly in attempts 
to get out of the path of the motorcar ; dogs are under- 
foot and cats (perched on points of vantage, safe from 
both dog and small boy) wash their faces leisurely or 
stare with solemn yellow eyes. On the cellar steps 
leading to his workshop, a cobbler in leather apron, 
great horn spectacles on his nose, sits reading a little 
red book. His appearance immediately recalls Hans 
Sachs, the cobbler-poet. A boy wearing a baker's cap, 
is making faces at the cobbler, egged on by a lanky 
companion whose long blue apron reaches almost to 
his feet, which are insecurely shod in heel-less slippers. 
A passerby, moved to sympathy with the person whose 
dinner reposes in the blue one's basket, gives this boy's 

142 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

ear a tweak, creating such a sudden return of business 
activity that one sHpper is left behind. Indeed, we 
often wondered how many dinners we were delaying 
while a dozen butcher- and grocer-boys and their ilk, 
gravely watched our arrival, or departure, in front of 
some hotel. 

With mudguards apparently threatening to sweep 
the narrow sidewalk, Bobbie swung into a street lead- 
ing to the Markt. The giggles and shrieks of rosy- 
cheeked Gretchens were renewed when he found the 
street marked GESPERRT (closed) and had to back 
out again, but the next cross street was also marked 
GESPERRT as were all others leading to our goal. 
Finally it dawned on our comprehension that the 
market was in progress and that, consequently, we 
could not drive in at all ; so in a twist of Hohe Weg, 
which actually afforded space for our car to stand 
without blocking the single trolley-track, we dismount- 
ed. Across a little court surrounded by odd print 
shops and curio shops, some steps led up to a passage- 
way beneath a building; from this strange tunnel we 
emerged on the market place and gazed upon a scene 
familiar to many generations of Hildesheimers. The 
market was indeed under way, and the whole square 
was covered with fruit and vegetable stands. The 
vendors were nearly all women, old and young; such 
as were not volubly praising their goods were busy 
knitting, or calling jokes and bits of gossip to one an- 
other. Round about them towered buildings of their 
forefathers' day, each bearing the mark of a distinct 
period of antiquity, and all, expressive of civic pride 
and prosperity. 

As early as 814 , Hildesheim was a bishopric. That 
notable figure Bishop Bernward — churchman, soldier, 
scholar and patron of the fine arts — made his see the 

143 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

most important center of Romanesque art in Germany ; 
his work here began in 993, very close to that fatal 
year 1000 which was popularly expected to bring the 
end of this world. Perhaps the general scramble to 
get within the fold of the church and placate her 
shepherds with gifts in return for a passport to the 
next world, accounts in a measure for the amazing 
growth of ecclesiastical institutions in both wealth and 
influence. Be that as it may, there dawned golden 
days for Hildesheim which lasted during the rule of 
four bishops. Despite the impending termination of 
all earthly affairs, the bishops built well ; not for their 
time alone, but for all time. They built in solid 
masonry and wrought in time-defying bronze; masons, 
artists, artisans, craftsmen, lay brothers and monks 
were exceedingly busy. Some decorative works are 
ascribed to Bernward himself, though this seems im- 
possible — not for lack of ability, but for lack of leisure. 
With all sincere respect for those who did so much to 
promote civilization, I have often wondered whether 
that end-of-the-world spectre was not cleverly raised 
and sustained for the good of the church. 

However, those early works in Hildesheim (pre- 
served almost intact by reason of subsequent hard 
times inimical to building, or by the conservatism of 
the Teuton, slow to graft Gothic upon the empire's 
imposing style) form today, in buildings and objects 
of art, a priceless addition to examples of that period. 
It is fortunate that, somewhere, the feudal spirit waxed 
so strong and died so hard that buildings remain which 
give an idea of complete Romanesque exteriors. In 
England, they have so largely been lost in Gothic that 
you catch yourself wondering how the outside of a 
cathedral like Gloucester, Durham or Peterborough 
looked in its original conception. 

144 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

But Bishop Bernward's day was not the only golden 
era for Hildesheim. In the twelfth century she shook 
off the power of prelate and prince, became a 
Hansestadt and great trading city, her coffers over- 
flowing with the just dues of commercial prosperity; 
eventually her buildings showed the imprint of the 
most florid German Renaissance. This atmosphere of 
old-time burgher prosperity pervades the town today. 
A more cheerful atmosphere than that of Brunswick; 
though no less strongly reminiscent of the Middle 
Ages, for all its Renaissance. Patrician houses in 
Brunswick are largely of the earlier variety of timber 
construction, with plain, stuccoed surfaces forming 
panels between the great oaken beams of the frame, 
and with the ornamentation usually confined to the 
structural members. On Hildesheim's finer buildings 
stucco panels disappear and the fronts are literally 
covered with rows of windows, story upon story, their 
mullions as well as the panels beneath them, being 
profusely ornamented with carving, paneling, medal- 
lions and mottoes, often picked out in rich color. 

The Knochenhauer Amthaus* (butchers' guildhall), 
whose huge four-story gable faces the market place, is 
one of the most famous timber structures of the Ger- 
man Renaissance and displays beautiful carvings. The 
Wedekind house, on another side of this square, pre- 
sents the broad side of its steep roof, broken by a huge 
dormer between the gabled tops of two bay windows ; 
the house is covered with allegorical figures. Round 
about are examples of plain half-timbered construction. 
There is also the fourteenth century Rathaus, a pic- 
turesque stone structure displaying several styles, early 
Gothic predominating; its wooden, corner tower of 

•Since burned down, 

145 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

the sixteenth century is an odd feature, as is the main 
staircase within the arcade of the front. The Templar 
Haus, with the air of a feudal castle, also dates from 
the fourteenth century, though its handsome, profusely 
carved bay window is a sixteenth century addition. 

In the centre of the square, a stone Roland sur- 
mounts the basin of a fine old fountain and watches 
o'er the market place, as he does in many a German 
town. But the gable of the timber guildhall dominates 
the square, just as the spirit of the good old burgher 
days, long gone, seems to dominate the whole of civic 
Hildesheim. Approaching Andreas Platz via Rathaus 
Strasse you pass an old apothecary shop — an over- 
hanging, timber structure upon a first story of stone — 
which displays Hildesheim's coat of arms and the date 
1656; a Latin inscription repeated in German, tells 
of the building's destruction by fire on Bartholomew's 
Day (August 24) and its re-erection by Christmastide. 
The apothecary is advertised above a small door, once 
devoted to the use of councilmen, by a sign stating : 

Wilst du Arzny oder siissen Wein 
So geh dar die zu finden sein. 
Zwo ander' Thiir dir offen stan, 
Zu Rath hier geht der Oldermann. 

That is. 

If you seek medicine or sweet wine, 
Then go where such things you will fin' — 
Where two other doors wide open stan' ; 
To council, this leads the Alderman. 

Andreas Platz, alone, has five houses ranging from 
the fourteenth to the seventeenth century, which dis- 
play elaborate carving and (more or less legible) in- 
scriptions. The facade of one shows a fine example 

146 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

of the characteristic German "writing on the wall;" 
freely translated it means : — God ! how it comes to 
pass that they hate me, against whom I raise no hand 
— that they give me nothing, concede nothing, yet 
must suffer me to live. If they think I am crushed let 
them look to themselves, for I trust in God and despair 
not, and to those that merit it good luck comes every 
day. 

A house near by has quaint carvings of people riding 
in odd vehicles, or bestriding birds and monsters. 
Hildesheim abounds in these fine old mansions — 
hundreds of them. Oster Strasse boasts the Deutsches 
Haus, now an inn, which presents a very interesting 
arrangement of projecting gables and bay windows 
and an abundance of carving, ornamental brackets and 
panels. Carved figures show the four elements and 
many planets, while one group, representing the ages 
of man, pictures the child holding an hourglass ap- 
propriately inscribed, in Latin, "Today is mine, to- 
morrow thine." 

This wealth of imagery, expended in France on great 
cathedrals and other Gothic structures, was, in Ger- 
many, lavished on buildings of the Renaissance; rich 
and delicate carvings, panels, medallions, symbolical 
figures, statues, consoles, shields, coats of arms, mot- 
toes, proverbs, and their like, occur in endless pro- 
fusion. The abstract virtues are frequently pictured, 
sometimes bearing their Latin names; German prov- 
erbs and Latin homilies abound and, occasionally, in- 
genuous expressions of sentiment by the original owner 
of the house. Anecdote and humor (pictorial and 
otherwise) occur frequently and are a trifle broad, as 
was general not only then but as late as the beginning 
of the nineteenth century. On many buildings the 
carvings were indicative of the trade of the owner or 
occupant. 

147 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Like most German towns, Hildesheim has its 
legends; from the miraculous discovery of the "thou- 
sand-year rosebush" by Emperor Louis the Pious, in 
814, to the story of the Turn-again Tower and the 
Maid of Hildesheim now gracing the apex of the 
Rathaus gable, they run the gamut of delightful im- 
probability. I could not begin to tell them. 

The famous Kaiserhaus on Langer Hagen, while 
interesting for its odd sculpture and the portraits of 
forty-seven emperors, is of a disjointed, misfit design. 
One might wander through Hildesheim's streets for 
days, finding new bits of interest at every turn, and 
even then not see all there is to be seen. Thus there 
is produced a strong impression of picturesque medie- 
val life, manifest even in detail ; a life deeply religious 
yet strangely imaginative and superstitious ; wild, fan- 
tastic and vulgar — yet, withal, hearty, homely and 
homelike to an unusual degree. The memory of it 
will remain for many a prosaic after-5^ear and, at sight 
of a picture or of the printed word, "Hildesheim," 
will spring into life as at the touch of a magic wand. 

An interesting picture of social life in great trading 
cities is given by George Ebers' "In the Fire of the 
Forge" and by his "Margery" (German, "Gred") ; 
both introduce noted patrician families of Nuremberg, 
showing their vast sphere of influence, and their in- 
tense pride which has risen to the height of declining 
patents of nobility. There's a proud class for you! 
Ebers, like Dahn and Freytag, was professor and past 
master of his subject before becoming a novelist; so 
we may trust any of these men for a faithful picture 
of German3^ "Welt-Untergang," a bright little story 
by Felix Dahn, is based on the widespread belief that 
the year 1000 would bring the end of the world; un- 
fortunately, no English translation has been published. 

148 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

The churches of St. Michael and of St. Godehard 
(admired of architects and archaeologists) are un- 
usual examples of the truly national development of 
the Romanesque in Germany; even distant New York 
has, in its Metropolitan Museum, plaster models of 
their fine capitals. Some characteristic innovations of 
the German Romanesque were a raised choir (to admit 
of the vaulted crypt below), a triple eastern apse, an 
eastern and a western apse at one and the same time, 
and finally a large number of well-grouped towers 
(often four or six) which relieved the somewhat bare 
exteriors. Bare these were, of a surety, but dignified 
and impressive. 

St. Michael's and St. Godehard's are basilicas ; they 
have flat wooden roofs, and their plan lacks not only 
the true Gothic transepts, but also the great choir and 
ambulatory which, in the Pointed Style, stretched be- 
yond the crossing and rivaled the nave ; their clerestory 
walls are carried on piers alternating with two col- 
umns, which gives a pleasing sense of variety. Cer- 
tainly these churches and others of their family in 
Cologne, Mainz, Bonn and Laach surpass, in grace and 
dignity, all contemporary structures of this class and 
form a fitting, pleasing memorial of the great empire 
that fostered them. 

You will probably be glad to refresh your memory 
regarding the origin of this Holy Roman Empire, for 
it is impossible to obtain an intelligent idea of ancient 
Germany without knowing the status of its emperors. 

As the Roman empire tottered to its fall, it could 
scarcely be called pagan, so widespread was the intro- 
duction of Christianity. When the seat of empire was 
moved from Rome to Byzantium (Constantinople) 
and Emperor Constantine was baptized, his was vir- 
tually a "holy" empire. But as this empire of the East 

149 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

declined in power, the popes at Rome grew eager to re- 
vive the empire of the West. No occasion seemed so 
favorable as the rise of Charlemagne, that Christian 
king whose power and possessions promised to equal 
those of old imperial Rome, and who had twice saved 
the papal throne. Accordingly Pope Leo III crowned 
him kaiser (caesar) of the Holy Roman Empire — to 
be its temporal head while the pope remained its spir- 
itual head. 

For a time this proved an admirable arrangement. 
But after the Moslems had been decisively beaten 
back, after the western heathen had been subdued and 
converted, after the boundaries of the temporal em- 
pire became fixed and the influence of the church ex- 
tended even beyond them — the interdependence of 
pope and kaiser became less vital, and each chafed at 
the power of the other. The popes insisted unduly on 
the privilege of dictating in the kaisers' realm — even 
m the election of a kaiser ; while the kings of Germany 
held they were Holy Roman emperors ex-officio, with- 
out requiring the sanction of the pope or his formal 
coronation. This bickering ended in active aggression, 
and each worked ceaselessly to undermine the power 
of the other. 

It is a great pity German kings spent so much time 
and treasure in striving to attain the rather empty 
honor of being Holy Roman emperor; and it is a 
significant fact that, with few exceptions, kings like 
Henry the Fowler and Rudolph of Hapsburg — who 
were never crowned emperor and didn't care a rap 
about it — achieved greater power and did more for 
Germany than any other sovereigns. 

We do not mention the cathedral in connection with 
Romanesque churches because It has been altered out 
of all resemblance to its original self. Mr. Baedeker 

150 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

tartly remarks that its interior was entirely disfigured 
in 1724-30, adding that the western towers were re- 
built in 1839 without regard to their original form. 

Confession, they say, is good for the soul; a fine, 
catholic precept whatever your creed — so we may as 
well confess. None of us had shown any desire to see 
famous churches of the Holy Roman Empire, but all 
were very eager to see a certain rosebush reputed to 
be fully a thousand years old. It would, perhaps, be 
no exaggeration to say that this venerable plant first 
drew us to Hildesheim, so we undertook the pilgrim- 
age to the Domhof and its "entirely disfigured" Dom* 
with greatest fervor. O! irresponsible, unaccount- 
able, unspeakable tourist! there you go again; the 
art of centuries, the fame of kings and emperors, the 
spiritual dawn of nations — all forgotten, overlooked, 
ignored, in the unconquerable desire to see a rosebush 
said to have been planted ten centuries ago. Yet, like 
pilgrims of old, of our own faith were we repaid ; we 
approached in the proper spirit and were rewarded by 
receiving an impression that we fain would carry with 
us, always. The minute we pass under the great arch- 
way and enter the Domhof (cathedral close, or square) 
we seem to leave the town's turbulent, kaleidoscopic 
life far behind. Before us lies a quiet square shaded 
by fine old trees. Birds are singing and fluttering 
across the sun-flecked lawn, in the centre of which 
rises the ancient, bronze Bernward column. This gem 
of art, depicting twenty-eight scenes from the life of 
Christ, is also honored with a place in New York's 
Museum. 

At a respectful distance beyond the square rises a 
line of encircling houses, simple and dignified in their 



*Dom — Cathedral, 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

old timberwork ; upon our right an imposing, graceful 
church with Romanesque detail and Renaissance lines 
— the Dom. In the shadow of a Renaissance crossing- 
tower we enter the cool porch of the northern "tran- 
sept." We go down a step into its refreshing shade, 
pass an iron grille and then descend another step. It 
grows cooler and quieter and we seem to leave a cen- 
tury behind with every step ; then more steps and more 
centuries, and we stand in the broad, cheerful nave 
with the stained sunlight falling upon us through the 
southern windows. 

The sacristan wears a bright red cassock, gray hair 
around the tonsure adding dignity to his grave speech 
as he points out each treasure. Great brazen doors, a 
wonderful brazen font whose massive cover is sus- 
pended from the ceiling, the famous candelabrum, the 
rood loft, the gilded sarcophagus of St. Godehard, the 
gilded tomb of St Epiphanius with the silver reliefs of 
the early eleventh century, a fifteen-foot bronze Easter 
column by Bishop Bernward, and I know not what 
other wonders. But we looked with half an eye and 
listened hardly at all, impatient to see our rosebush. 
At last the round of the church was made; a massive 
door unlocked, we went down more steps and back 
more centuries, and stood in the cloisters. Past 
crumbling cenotaphs we hasten, through an archway, 
and out into the sunlight of the cloister court. 

Imagine a beautiful garden almost wild in the care- 
less profusion of its vines and bushes, but nowise 
neglected. To the west the gray, semicircular apse of 
the Dom; on the other sides venerable two-story 
cloisters whose great first-story round arches, sur- 
mounted by delicate little Romanesques colonnades, are 
almost hidden under heavy vines — above, the huge red 
tile roofs with tiny dormers rising against the sunny 
German sky. 

152 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

On the green are the graves of forgotten genera- 
tions, marked by iron and stone crosses and slabs upon 
the ground; standing among them is a tiny Gothic 
chapel — the Annakapelle (chapel of St. Anne). And 
roses, roses everywhere; they grow on bushes among 
the graves, they cover the stone slabs in the grass, they 
nearly smother the front of the exquisite little chapel 
in the middle of the court. The hush of peace is over 
the place — the peace of centuries; the sorely needed, 
seldom gained, peace of those dark ages when human 
beasts of prey were abroad, and many a man or woman 
could find no peace at all save with the church. In 
places such as this, they found it. Here they were 
free to forget bloodshed and ruin and starvation, in the 
pursuit of the arts and crafts; or, scroll in hand, to 
pace the still cloisters amid the lingering scent of the 
roses. A veritable "rosary" for them, indeed. Do you 
know them, those rosaries? We have one at home — 
inherited from some great-aunt or other — a string of 
ivory beads thumbed dark brown by the fevered hands 
of many generations who told them round and round, 
seeking relief from trouble, and solutions for their 
hearts' problems — seeking, and not infrequently count- 
ing out the answer as on a wonderful, omniscient 
abacus. 

Our guide wisely said no word; he stood gravely 
waiting, the breeze faintly stirring the folds of his red 
robe, while we looked our fill. Then he waved his 
hand westward and said, "The thousand-year-old rose- 
bush." From a stem not much thicker than one's arm 
the old plant springs and, spreading and climbing some 
thirty feet high on the walls that have carried it so 
long, half covers the gray stone apse with its soft 
green. We had hoped to find it all abloom ; it was not, 
but, happily for us, there were a few modest, starlike 

153 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

blossoms shining among the leaves. Our guide now 
waved his arm to include the whole scene, and re- 
marked, "The most beautiful spot in Germany." He 
fell silent again, taking our agreement for granted; 
and, indeed, there was not one to gainsay him. We 
turned to the rosebush once more and learned there is 
documentary proof of its existence for fully 800 years, 
supported by the additional evidence of remains of 
walls built to protect it during alterations to the cathe- 
dral. Judging from this extreme care, there is reason 
to suppose that this is the bush known to have been 
planted two hundred years earlier by one of the 
bishops. 

We stood and gazed and admired, each busy with 
thoughts of the strange and distant past, until rudely 
recalled to the present by Scoffy's exclamation, "Holy 
snifters! and I would have bet dollars to doughnuts 
that it was a crimson rambler." 

We could not remain till three, the hour for seeing 
the truly noteworthy relics in the treasury of the 
cathedral. A long journey lay before us; moreover, 
the one Young Lady who had strained an ankle going 
down unexpected steps, would be more comfortable 
riding than sightseeing. So we tore ourselves away 
from those fascinating streets and from the wondrous 
"rosary" whose spell of silence bound us till we reached 
the Harz mountains, that had been beckoning to us all 
morning. 

Bobbie drove southeast on the Goslarsche Strasse, 
past the Galgenberg (gallows' hill) where a fine set 
of silver vessels was recently unearthed; these, sup- 
posed to have belonged to the Roman general Varus, 
are now in the museum at Berlin. 

Following the valley of the Innerste, which rivulet 
comes from the haunted Lautenthal of the Harz and 

154 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

flows through Hildesheim, he pushed on via Heersam 
and Grasdorf to Salzgitter — a small town with salt 
baths; just before reaching here we could see, across 
the valley, the Barenberg,* near which Tilly of the 
Catholic party defeated Christian IV of Denmark in 
1626. Hildesheim, as you may conjecture, did not al- 
together escape the Thirty Years' War, though it 
figured most prominently later, being taken by the 
Catholic general Pappenheim in 1632, and retaken by 
Duke Frederick Ulrich of Brunswick, in 1634, after a 
stubborn resistance of nearly a year. 

The Thirty Years' War was a terrible example of 
the ruinous effects of internecine struggles. The popu- 
lation of Germany was reduced, according to various 
estimates, anywhere between twenty per cent, and 
fifty per cent. ; the population of Bohemia, the center 
from which this war spread, was reduced from about 
four millions to the neighborhood of eight hundred 
thousand. Wallenstein, that haughty Bohemian noble 
with an ambition little short of Napoleon's, was a 
Napoleon not only in generalship but in his ruthless 
disregard of public welfare. Having raised his army 
single-handed, as agreed, he little cared that it sub- 
sisted entirely on the country, with the result that sec- 
tions of Germany were reduced to a desert. It has 
been stated that only of recent years has the total num- 
ber of horned cattle in Germany equalled the figures 
of 1618. 

"Philip Rollo," by James Grant, tells of an early 
period of this war and shows us the Protestant king 
Christian IV of Denmark, his adversaries Wallenstein 
and Tilly, and the Merodeurs — those most terrible of 
hired troops. Stanley Weyman's "My Lady Rotha," 



*Berg — mountain. 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

which opens in Thuringia, also draws a dramatic pic- 
ture of the war, though at a later period under the 
valiant Friederich Ulrich of Brunswick, the elector 
John George of Saxony, and the famous Protestant 
champion Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden. 

But no book designed to make agreeable reading can 
fully depict those dreadful times. In England the Ref- 
ormation set brother against brother and father 
against son, and while this was bad enough, at least 
they were all Englishmen, In Germany, where the 
struggle was carried on largely by hired troops whose 
interest lay in a protracted war ; who carried with them 
for each force an equal army of women, wives, chil- 
dren and campf ollowers ; who were free to plunder and 
devastate a relatively foreign country — the horror of 
the situation cannot be described in a few measured 
sentences. The Danes and, later, the Swedes strove 
with more or less success to enforce a certain amount 
of discipline outside the battlefield, but the Imperialists 
made not even a pretense of any such measures. The 
French, always planning and plotting to weaken the 
empire and always bold as lions when the empire was 
in trouble, actually pushed this policy to the extent of 
sending an army against the Catholics, and ravaged 
Bavaria in unmitigated fashion. 

Short of Spain's absolute fanaticism in the Nether- 
lands — a repetition of which the intervening half- 
century's intellectual growth forbade — it is hard to 
find an example to show what most of Germany suf- 
fered during these thirty years. 

Somewhere before Goslar we passed an old fortified 
farm, a highly interesting sight. There were the red- 
roofed structures — manor house, barns, outbuildings, 
all complete — set in a field surrounded by a big stone 
wall with corner towers ; and the river meandering 

156 



TO GOSLAR VIA HILDESHEIM 

past one corner of the quadrangle doubtless supplied 
water for the moat, in those strenuous days of long 
ago. I wish I could state its exact location, but mem- 
ory plays me false and I made no memoranda during 
the trip. Moral: use a notebook; for its record may 
aid you in bringing to mind something you very much 
wish to recall. Mere man rises superior to suggestions 
about keeping a diary, but it is a handy thing to use 
afterward if only to locate the subject of an unmarked 
photograph. 



157 



CHAPTER VI. 
GOSLAR, THE HARZ AND NORDHAUSEN. 

JUNE 24TH, AFTERNOON — 50 MILES, 

GOSLAR was reached in time for lunch; enter- 
ing the town we were at once attracted by the 
huge Paulsthurm, a survivor of the hundred 
and eighty-two towers of the ancient fortifications. 
It contained a restaurant and coffee garden where we 
should have liked to stop; but a hotel almost opposite 
provided better accommodation for an automobile and 
afforded a more agreeable view. 

Founded in the tenth century, Goslar rapidly ac- 
quired prominence because of silver mines in the 
Rammelsberg* close by, and became a favorite resi- 
dence of both Saxon and Salic emperors who main- 
tained here one of their most important palaces. The 
Salic line reached the height of its glory with Henry 
HI, but with his son, Henry IV, its fall approached. 
Henry IV was impetuous and weak — a bad combina- 
tion. Perhaps not his fault, for he, poor thing, was 
crowned king at the age of four and succeeded to the 
empire two years later; virtually kidnapped by the am- 
bitious Archbishop Hanno of Cologne on the pretense 
of guardianship, he finally escaped and took refuge 
with his chosen guardian, Adalbert, archbishop of 
Bremen. The powerful princes whom his mother, as 
regent, failed to control, banished Adalbert from 



*Berg — mountain. 

159 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

court and forced Henry to marry Bertha, daughter of 
the margrave of Turin, to whom his father had be- 
trothed him; she proved a very worthy woman and 
soon won her husband's esteem. 

Poor Henry! the sport of princes and shuttlecock 
of fate during the days of his youth, small wonder he 
continued to be a shuttlecock, for all the fierce, impetu- 
ous disposition he showed in manhood. The Saxons 
rebelled and drove him from Harzburg, though he fi- 
nally defeated them. He quarreled with the pope and 
was promptly excommunicated; whereupon, deserted 
by his princes and suspended from office by the Diet, 
he yielded and, with wife and child, crossed the Alps 
in midwinter to do penance at the feet of Hildebrand 
(Gregory VH), who is said to have kept Henry wait- 
ing barefoot and bareheaded in the snow, for three 
days. This is perhaps the most famous excommunica- 
tion in history. And Gregory VH was one of the 
most famous popes — a great man, truly, who left his 
mark ; there is little doubt of the sincerity of his pur- 
pose though one may question his methods. He 
countenanced, some say instigated, William the Con- 
queror's invasion of Englan 1. 

I fear this was almost a whole page of dry facts, but 
they show the age of Goslar and of its line of em- 
perors, which was dying out when England's Norman 
house was coming in. The traveler, you know, finds 
little in England antedating the Normans save stone- 
circles, mounds, and Roman roads. Henry, by the 
way, finding most of his imperial privileges withheld 
r.iotwithstanding his remarkable penance, flared up in 
his old fashion and was again excommunicated. Some 
of the princes, siding with Gregory, set up an anti- 
kaiser in the person of Rudolph of Swabia ; but Henry 
was not to be caught twice at the same game, and this 

i6o 



GrOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

time he fought it out. He set up an anti-pope (Clem- 
ent III), killed Rudolph in battle and carried the war 
into Italy, taking Rome and besieging Gregory in the 
castle of St. Angelo. Gregory, who escaped only 
with the aid of a duke whom he had also once excom- 
municated, died next year. Henry was crowned by 
Clement III, and the princes, tiring of war, ac- 
quiesced. Strife enough for one life, don't you think? 
But this was not the end; Henry's own sons rebelled 
against him; he was taken prisoner, again excom- 
municated by a new pope, and forced to sign his abdi- 
cation at Ingelheim. He died soon after and, pending 
the removal of the excommunication, his body lay 
four years in a stone coffin in an unconsecrated chapel 
at Spires. This last indignity no doubt troubled him 
little; one might expect it made him smile, even in his 
grave, considering how futile and foolish this one was 
compared with those heaped upon him during life. 
What the people thought of Henry — and they are 
often first to feel the vice or virtue of a ruler — may 
be inferred from the words once current, "God tolled 
the bells of Spires' cathedral when Kaiser Heinrich 
died." With his son Henry V, the Salic line of em- 
perors died out and the Hohenstaufens came in. They 
ruled without a break except for Lothar of Saxony, 
and Otto IV (son of Henry the Lion) whose brother 
had married the granddaughter of a Hohenstaufen 
emperor. Otto destroyed Goslar and its palaces in 
1206. 

There ! now you are almost as highly favored as the 
little girl who picked a magic flower on the Peters- 
berg, and was thus brought face to face with all the 
old kaisers, in the bowels of this mountain; though I 
believe she got a silver dish as a keepsake, which you 
will hardly expect from me. Tradition ascribes the 

161 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

discovery of silver in the Rammelsberg to one of Em- 
peror Otto's huntsmen (named Ramm) whose horse, 
while tied to a tree, uncovered the vein with its stamp- 
ing, scraping hoofs ; the town is said to be named after 
Gosa, the huntsman's wife. Enough timber was used 
in the mines, so the story goes, to build Goslar and 
Brunswick; but, nevertheless, when Otto I unjustly 
executed a prince on the summit of the Rammelsberg, 
the mine collapsed — burying scores of workmen — and 
lay idle many years. 

The Domcapelle is the north porch of Henry Ill's 
cathedral of St. Simon and St. Jude, once richer in 
relics of saints and apostles than a dozen cathedrals 
combined. Yet this church was the scene of great 
sacrilege; in the eleventh century Hezilio, bishop of 
Hildesheim, quarreled with the abbot of Fulda about 
a question of precedence and both sought to settle the 
matter by force of arms. No little blood was shed 
right in the church while the devil, who had poked a 
hole in the wall, looked on and held his sides for 
laughter. Much difficulty was experienced in filling 
up this hole, for as soon as the last stone was inserted 
the others fell out; finally the duke of Brunswick's 
master-mason came to the rescue by shutting in a black 
cat before he set the last stone, saying, "Stay, in the 
devil's name." This sufficed in a measure, though a 
slight crack remained until the demolition of the 
church in 1819. 

The old Rathaus containing the "Biting Cat" for 
caging scolds or shrews, the Brusttuch house with 
grotesque carvings, Kaiserworth, and the Baker's 
Guild House are worth a visit — ^though dating from a 
later period, when Goslar, grown up again, had joined 
the Hanseatic League. The Kaiserhaus, famous as 
the oldest secular building in Germany, is a restoration 

162 



GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

of the ancient palace; having learned how extensive 
was this restoration of 1876, we skipped it and its pic- 
tures of Dornroschen — known to us as "Sleeping 
Beauty." 

We left Goslar by the eastern gate (the Breitetor, 
with its circular towers and conical roofs) and pushed 
on to Bad Harzburg, passing the Okerthal, a pictur- 
esque valley worth visiting afoot if you have time to 
spare. Bad* Harzburg is a fashionable watering- 
place ; of Henry IV's castle, which stood on the Burg- 
berg south of the present town, scarcely a vestige re- 
mains, so thoroughly was it leveled by the angry Sax- 
ons in 1073. 

Here the road ascends, and after we whizzed by 
the Curhaus and Eichen park (where guests were 
congregating for the afternoon concert) and had 
passed the roaring Radau waterfall, the beautiful 
broad roadway led directly into the heart of the Harz 
mountains. On we rode, and on, into the solitude — ■ 
and up, and up; great fir-clad heights above us, pre- 
cipitous valleys on either hand; not a house in sight, 
not a living soul ; not a sound to be heard save the chug 
of our motor and the splash and tinkle of ice-cold 
mountain streams. Who can fitly describe it? 
Coleridge says : — 

"Woods crowding upon woods, hills over hills, 

A surging scene, and only limited 

By the blue distance. ********* 

Downward, * * * * fir groves evermore, 

Where bright green moss heaves in sepulchral forms 

Speckled with sunshine ; and, but seldom heard, 

The sweet bird's song became an hollow sound ; 

And the breeze, murmuring indivisibly, 

- *Bad— bath. 

163 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Preserved its solemn murmur most distinct 

From many a note of many a waterfall, 

And the brook's chatter ; 'mid whose islet-stones 

The dingy kidling with its tinkling bell 

Leaped frolicsome" *************** 

And still we climbed; past Radauberg, past Abben- 
stein and Wolfswarte. Occasionally a cleft in the 
mountain cuts down into the forest at right angles, and 
we get a beautiful sunlit vista over hills and valleys, 
woods and fields and towns; then tall pines hedge us 
in again with cool, fragrant shadows. 

Bobbie doesn't like the endless climb. Do we think 
his beloved car is a traction-engine or a cog-railway? 
At a convenient spot he stops to see how she is acting. 
Aha ! the water is getting hot. "How much longer are 
we going up, Mr. Pater, and how much steeper ? How 
much more of a run are we to make today ? Running 
for miles on low speed consumes the juice pretty fast." 

As the stop offers a fine chance to stretch one's legs, 
we all volunteer to find out. No living creature is in 
sight except 'a cunning little lizard" sunning itself on 
a stone. Amid feminine shrieks the "lizard" turns out 
to be a young snake, and is chased into the tall grass 
by the Youth with warhoops and a shower of stones ; 
so our only local inhabitant is lost to view. The one 
Young Lady discovered a fine spring at which we 
quench our thirst, and Bobbie wonders whether the 
car had better have a drink, too. The proximity of 
snake and spring was an odd coincidence, and sug- 
gested the legend of the shepherd and the enchanted 
princess at the spring of Lichtenstein. She had been 
turned into a snake and could be released only after 
being kissed by a man ; many a knight had declined the 
invitation, but the shepherd screwed his courage to the 

164 



GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

sticking point and received the beautiful princess as 
his wife. Thus, you see, it is quite possible the Youth 
threw away, together with the stones, the greatest op- 
portunity of a lifetime. 

But see ! A forester comes down the road. Mater 
and Scoffy go to meet him. A dapper young fellow, 
in a natty green suit, rifle slung over his shoulder and 
an eagle's feather in his alpine hat. Did those war- 
whoops bring him out on a tour of investigation ? Who 
can tell ? We interview this young "Robin Hood" as 
we erroneously dub him, and learn that we are "almost 
at the top of the grade ;" it is only a "quarter of a mile 
to the Gasthaus" (tavern). And we have been doing 
exceedingly well; "Cans wunderbar," in fact. Only 
yesterday a big six-cylinder car came up the mountain 
with but half the load we are carrying, "and it was 
spouting a fountain of steam and hot water." He 
twists his incipient moustache quite fiercely, salutes 
and strides away resuming, at a respectful distance, his 
whistling of : 

"Madele, ruck, ruck, ruck an meine griine Seite, 
r hab' di' gar so gern, F kann di' leide'." 
So we plucked up courage and soon reached the 
Gasthaus, where all tumble out for a drink under the 
arbor ; meanwhile Scoffy voices his conviction that the 
forester was whistling to keep up his spirits, because 
the sight of strange figures in dusters and goggles, 
picking up stones, "probably reminded him of his one- 
time predecessor, the forester of Scharzfels, who came 
upon the Three Venetians looking for gems and gold." 
We had been running uphill for over nine miles 
and, in less than that distance, had risen more than 
two thousand feet ; considering there were some fairly 
level stretches, you may well imagine we mounted 
pretty steep grades. 

i6s 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

After rounding Ouitschenberg there loomed up, 
three miles to our left, the Brocken — pride of the 
Harz — the Blocksberg of Goethe's Faust, the Mons 
Bructerus of the Romans. Had we made its more 
intimate acquaintance and enjoyed the splendid view, 
we should also have made acquaintance with the rail- 
road that crawls up its venerable sides to discharge 
throngs of tourists on its summit. Its bald crown 
still rose sharply in full sunlight while the valleys and 
low hills were already fading into shadow; we could 
faintly distinguish the "devil's pulpit," but the flat 
space below the summit, where witches dance every 
year on St. Walpurgis' night, was quite distinct ; and, 
in our mind's eye, we could conjure up the terrifying 
Spectre of the Brocken whose fame has penetrated 
even to American schoolbooks. There is hardly a peak 
in the Harz, hardly a cave or stream or spring or 
waterfall but has its legend. 

For a moment we perceived, below and at our right, 
a dazzling flash of water — doubtless Oder Lake lying 
in its mountain bed 2,300 or more feet above sea level. 
With Rehberg is associated the story of an enthusiastic 
hunter whom even the Sabbath did not restrain ; many 
a Sunday, notwithstanding the priest's remonstrance, 
did the hunt rush past a hillside chapel. On one such 
occasion this huntsman started a splendid white deer 
which he pursued till after nightfall. The deer sped 
to the Rehberg cliff with the hounds right at its 
heels ; over the cliff leaped the spectral deer — and, alas ! 
hounds and huntsman, too. Often, on a quiet Sunday 
night in October, you may hear the cry and clamor of 
the chase end in shrieks and groans that issue from 
the abyss where, far below the road, the Oder river 
murmurs. The mere thought of taking a turn too 
fast, at night, and going over the sheer drop into the 

166 



GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

Oder from this side is enough to make one feel creepy. 
Rehberg is also a haunt of the Berggeist — the good 
spirit of the mountains and unfailing friend of unfor- 
tunate miners — who always appears in the shape of a 
benevolent old man, dressed in master-miner's apparel 
and bearing a miner's lamp of silver. 

We left the heights and began to descend sharply in 
the evening shadows. Not a dwelling in that great 
solitude; only an occasional sod hut for the succor of 
unwary travelers in winter. The magnificent road led 
round and round, and down and down, with all bad 
curves and dangerous spots marked by rows of white- 
washed stone posts ; more than a thousand feet in four- 
and-a-half miles, down into the village of Braunlage. 

Poor Scoffy, confused between one signboard 
marked Sorge and another marked Zorge, announced 
sadly that he thought we were lost. Not a pleasant 
prospect at this late hour, especially in case the Wild 
Huntsman, Hackelnberg, were abroad, for he would 
undoubtedly play nasty tricks with an auto. This fool- 
hardy soul bartered his place in heaven for the privi- 
lege of hunting till Judgment Day; and many a night, 
for hundreds of years, the howl of his chase has re- 
sounded over the Harz and throughout Thuringia. 
His name will survive that of king and kaiser; the cir- 
cumstantial stories of people who have encountered 
him would fill a volume, and I doubt there is man, 
woman, or child in all Germany who has not heard of 
the "Wilde Jaeger." Several times, as our horn's 
honking awoke the forest echoes, we seemed to hear 
his cry, "Hu, hu!" but it may have been only the cry 
of the Uhu (owl) that hunts with him. This is Tut- 
Osel, or tooting Ursula, a nun from a Thuringian con- 
vent who disturbed all services by her discordant voice 
and, after death, haunted the convent until her ghost 

167 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

was transformed into an owl by a monk from the 
Danube; since when, she accompanies this other noc- 
turnal hunter, Hans von Hackelnberg. Sir Walter 
Scott's translation of Biirger's ballad will give you an- 
other version of "The Wild Huntsman." 

We escaped an eerie ride in avoiding Zorge, the 
highest village in the mountains, for near it lies the 
Tanzteich (dance-pond), site of an ill-famed castle 
which the earth swallowed one night when dance and 
revelry were at their height. In the hollow thus 
formed lies this pond, from which weird music and 
heartrending cries occasionally emanate ; as if to offset 
this culmination of tragedy, the other side of the Gais- 
berg overlooks St. Andreasberg, a village devoted to 
the culture of the famous Harz canaries. 

Fortunately, all roads led to the main valley, and 
we finally came upon a delightful little hamlet with 
a picturesque half-timbered sawmill and, more to the 
point, a railroad station with a waiting train marked 
"Nordhausen." "Bobbie," exclaimed Pater, "stick to 
that railroad like grim death." He did, and it took 
us to Nordhausen, though we went astray once more 
on account of a broken signpost, the only defective 
one we saw in Germany. This detour carried us past 
a mountain bearing the ruined castle Hohnstein where 
the custom of giving philopena presents originated. 
The plain German name Vielliehchen has, according to 
Mr. Webster and other lexicographers, been given the 
stilted Greek-Latin turn, philopena. We regarded 
Hohnstein as a consolation for having missed the 
Keedle's Eye near Ilfeld; this odd stone, standing by 
the wayside near the one-time abbey of Ilfeld, is sup- 
posed to date from prehistoric days. Every novice 
at woodcutting in this locality, is initiated by being 
obliged to crawl through a hole in the stone, to the 

1 68 



GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

unpleasant accompaniment of lashes from the whips 
of his companions. 

In Nordhausen two streets confronted us; one 
going invitingly downhill, the other sharply uphill. 

"Which way, Mr. Pater," quoth our driver. 

"Now, Bobbie, haven't I told you, when in doubt, al- 
ways follow the trolley?" 

So up went the car, along the narrow, crooked, hilly 
street which took us to the Markt. Our hostelry was 
on the Market at the corner of this very street or alley ; 
as the automobile reached it, a man in uniform jumped 
forward and motioned frantically. Most of us had 
gloomy forebodings of the police court, but Pater only 
grinned delightedly, and remarked, "That's as rich 
as a play." It seems our rooms had been engaged by 
telephone and the hotel porter, troubled by our tardi- 
ness, was on the watch. 

Nordhausen is a sleepy little place, frequented 
mainly by drummers and buyers of schnapps from its 
famous distilleries down the hill. Automobile parties, 
evidently, rarely stop there. I shouldn't have been sur- 
prised had that devoted porter thrown himself bodily 
under the wheels rather than let us get away. Prob- 
ably, had we been much later, the whole town con- 
stabulary, armed with lanterns, would have been scour- 
ing the roads for us. 

I suspect the "mountain dew" of this vicinity was 
famous during untold generations ; at all events, drink- 
ing bouts were, and one in the town of Ellrich has 
become historic. An earl of Klettenberg — not the 
abbey builder — who bore off a golden chain as chief 
prize, was so elated that, despite his bibulous condition, 
he rode up and down the village street to exhibit his 
chain, jfinally spurring into the church of St. Nicholas 
and past the worshippers to the foot of the altar; the 

169 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

horse's shoes flew off, and horse and rider sank to the 
ground. These four horseshoes, nailed to the church, 
remained as a warning to many generations and, after 
the church went to ruin, were kept in the parsonage. 
While they are not in evidence at the present day, you 
will find documentary proof of their existence in Ott- 
mar's Volkssagen. Indeed, most of the legends I 
mention are a matter of record. 

We arrived in Nordhausen at 8.30 p. m. after an 
actual day's run of 114 miles largely through hilly 
country, more than forty miles of it through the heart 
of the Harz mountains. Bobbie said he would like to 
add a few miles to the total, to account for the distance 
we had traveled up and down. The direct map mile- 
age was 107^ which, with our detour of 3^ miles 
while lost, would make 1 1 1. 

The close of our second day's run left us nothing 
but praise for Germany as a motoring country. The 
picturesque, diversified scenery, the interesting towns 
and villages, the fine roads, and the cordial attitude of 
the people, permitted no other verdict. The highroads 
were very good, and though they should be traversed 
with caution in villages, this is only occasionally due 
to poor paving; in the mountains, where one might 
expect bad roads, their surface was excellent. The 
ease with which one may find his way about is remark- 
able. In most towns the street leading to the next 
town of importance is named for this town, as is the 
highroad (chaiissee) into which the street merges; 
for example, going from Harburg to Liineburg we 
asked in Harburg for Liineburger Strasse and, once 
upon this street, inquired for Liineburger Chaussee. 
Generally, signs so designated gave this information 
and saved inquiries. At Brunswick, we entered on 
Hamburger Strasse and left on Celler Strasse — Celle 

170 



GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

being the nearest large town — diverging later to the 
chaussee for Hildesheim. Hildesheim, we left on the 
Goslarsche Strasse. Of course there are exceptions, 
but so few as not to impair the usefulness of this 
nomenclature, which we found invaluable. 

As these truly obliging Germans, even to little chil- 
dren, seem unusually familiar with local topography, 
there was little didculty in obtaining information. 

The Romischer Kaiser, while it may be the best 
hotel in Nordhausen, is not a first-class hotel; yet, to 
the unspoiled traveler, is not only quite a passable place 
but very odd and interesting, and was doubtless a fine 
place in its day — the day of coaching, perchance. We 
derived much solace for slow service and fair cooking 
in the unexpected way halls and stairs wind around, 
in floors that occasionally slope like the deck of a 
ship, and in curious, musty, best bedrooms. The 
Young Ladies occupied this type of room — a huge 
chamber with astonishing furniture, and with beds 
hidden away in a little alcove closed by gorgeous, 
heavy hangings. What matter if the electric light is 
subject to chronic disorders, so long as your sofa re- 
sembles a throne ! What matter though you need all 
the windows open to freshen your room, so long as 
these overlook the old Market where an iron Poseidon 
has listened to generations of gossiping Markffrauen 
whose clacking tongues he is unable to quiet despite 
the imperative wave of his trident ! I wonder how he 
came there, anyway. Mayhap, some of the good 
councilmen took him for a Roman kaiser of the orig- 
inal Latin variety. 

We who had less pretentious rooms, deplored the 
use of electric light where furnishings cried out for 
candles in old brass candlesticks with snuffers and ex- 
tinguishers, and we wrestled gleefully with the old- 

171 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

fashioned German featherbed, a marvelous conception 
for bedclothes, and with bolsters and pillows piled so 
high one must be expected to sleep in a sitting posture. 
1 have never yet mastered those old featherbeds ; cover 
your feet and your chest is exposed ; cover your chest 
and your feet get cold. The most successful treatment 
I know, is to place it on the bed diagonally, covering 
your neck and disposing your legs in diamond pattern 
(feet together and knees far apart) like a frog swim- 
ming ; in any case the cover, elusive as a drop of quick- 
silver, is likely to roll off the bed and you finally lose 
the courage to haul it back. This awkward old article 
has undergone great evolution and, in the modern 
German hotel, has been tamed down into a nice silk 
comfortable, buttoned, if you please! to the sheet be- 
neath so that it can no longer escape. 

The room Scoffy and the Youth occupied faced that 
same little alley through which we had arrived. Lean- 
ing from the window, they were almost tempted to 
see whether they could touch the overhanging story of 
the old timbered house opposite. Traffic in the alley 
afforded no end of entertainment. A couple of fellows 
went by, arm in arm, singing to the tune of the taren- 
tella, 

"From the old tavern ^oor I've just come out; 

Oh, you poor wabbly street, what are you about ? 
Your right side's turned left side, and all's in a funk: 

Street, I must really believe you are drunk." 

The Germans are, in the main, a simple folk for all 
their profound science and great erudition. A glass 
of wine or beer, a song, a joke or two, witty argument 
or pointed speech, another song — and you have them 
happy as can be. Should I, perhaps, add a few more 

172 




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GOSLAR, THE HARZ, NORDHAUSEN 

glasses of beer? Well, no matter; they can stand a 
lot of it, and beer is not as deadly as whiskey. 

A few steps from the hotel are the Dom (a charm- 
ing, unpretentious little Gothic structure) and the old 
Rathaus; at one corner of the Rathaus, under a can- 
opy, stands a heroic statue of Roland which dates 
from 1 71 7, replacing one much older, Roland is 
symbolical of civic liberty, and he usually carries in 
his left hand a shield blazoned with the imperial eagle, 
and in his right, a drawn sword. 

The Dom boasts a twelfth century Romanesque 
crypt, for Nordhausen, you know, is a very old place 
and witnessed many a meeting of great princes in 
the Middle Ages; it was once a free imperial city. 
We refused to view the crypt, or be coaxed to the 
church of St. Blasius which contains two fine examples 
of the work of Lucas Cranach, for we had had enough 
of local antiquities for the nonce, and were eager to 
see more of the country. 

At ten-thirty next morning, after strolling around 
town a bit, looking at old houses, old squares and nar- 
row streets, we started for Leipsic by way of Eisleben 
and Halle. 



173 



CHAPTER VII. 
NORDHAUSEN TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE. 

JUNE 25TH 78 MILES. 

DRIVING out of Nordhausen the invaluable 
trolley-tracks again came into play. "Follow 
the tracks till they branch," said mine host, 
"then take the broad street to the left." Soon, a street- 
sign proved we were on the right road — Hallesche 
Strasse — which passes the Judenthurm, a remnant of 
the medieval fortifications. Why Judenthurm (Jews' 
Tower) I do not know, but it sounds unpleasantly 
suggestive of persecution; however, this sinister im- 
pression was effaced by the appearance of children 
from an adjoining school, dismissed for their morning 
recess. To and from school, small children always 
carry their belongings in knapsacks. Occasionally we 
also saw journeymen of the old type with knapsacks on 
their backs — bearing a staff cut from the woods and 
wearing a sprig of green in their hats; many carried 
their shoes, for who would wear uncomfortable foot- 
gear when he might walk barefoot along a sunny 
country road in summer? Several times, we met a 
schoolmaster afield with his class in botany ; the young- 
sters were equipped with the inevitable green, tin can- 
ister for specimens, and each boy wore the cap of 
his school — a sight to carry many a graybeard back to 
boyhood days. 

Our road led via Blehlen and Gorsbach to Rossla, 
where we passed about two miles north of Kyffhauser 

175 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

mountain at the foot of which Hes Sittendorf — the 
home of Rip Van Winkle's prototype, Peter Klaus* 
Every day, he drove his goats up the mountainside to 
graze ; on the fateful occasion, he bowled with a party 
of jolly knights and had recourse once too often to 
their inexhaustible tankard. He slept twenty years, 
awoke to find his beard reaching to his waist, met his 
daughter and her children on the village street — all 
after the best manner of Washington Irving and of 
Joe Jefferson of beloved memory. The mountain is 
crowned by the Kyffhauser Denkmal, one of the gi- 
gantic monuments so frequent in Germany. We saw 
four on this trip alone : Bismarck in Hamburg ; the 
Kyffhauser; the Germania opposite Bingen-on-the- 
Rhine ; and the giant Emperor William I at Coblenz. 

The Kyffhauser monument stands like a sturdy, or- 
nate, four-sided lighthouse, commanding the country 
for miles around. Starting from a series of elaborate 
masonry terraces which, with their great stairways, 
spring in turn from a huge semicircular plaza built 
upon the mountain top, its total height is over two 
hundred feet, and in a niche in the front of the tower 
is an equestrian statue (thirty-one feet high) of Em- 
peror William I. A lower niche contains a statue of 
Emperor Frederick Barbarossa who, greater than 
Charlemagne in some ways, might have been greater in 
all ways had not Henry the Lion's defection crippled 
his power. Poor Redbeard — when quite an old man 
he joined the Third Crusade and never returned ! No 
one knows where he died, or how, though of recent 
years it has been asserted he was swept away while 
crossing a river in Asia Minor and was, presumably, 
drowned. German folklore has it that he never died 
at all, but sits sleeping in the bowels of the Kvfifhauser 
directly under the ruins of the Hohenstaufen castle 

176 



TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE 

behind the monument, and that in the hour of Ger- 
many's direst need he will reappear in all his old-time 
power and glory. 

No idle fancy this, but a fact actually vouched for 
by a peasant who, in the depths of the great cavern in 
the south side of the mountain, came upon the kaiser 
sleeping there in a magnificent chamber ; he was seated 
in an ivory chair, back of a marble table, and his red 
beard had grown right through the table. Unfor- 
tunately the peasant uttered an exclamation, where- 
upon, with a sound like thunder, the inner cavern 
closed; thus, succeeding generations have been denied 
this interesting sight. Of these marvels, many other 
legends are current; that of the piper who, knowing 
Kaiser Friedrich's love of music, rendered a song for 
him and was called into the mountain to be rewarded 
with a capful of gold ; that of the musicians who played 
for him and were rewarded with poplar branches — 
disdainfully tossed away on their walk home, by all 
but one, who soon found it turning into solid gold. 
The concensus of these tales indicates that a mortal 
was admitted to Barbarossa's presence about once a 
century, and that the kaiser asked three questions — 
"Are the ravens still flying over the mountain? Are 
the dead trees still overhanging the cliff ? Has the old 
woman awakened?" Being answered "Yes," "Yes," 
and "No," he remarks : "Then I shall have to sleep 
another hundred years." 

The ravens were perhaps wont to follow him to 
many a hard-fought field, so their unvaried presence 
was indicative of no great change ; the dead trees will 
blossom when he comes forth; and the "old woman" 
is presumably the giant druidess who confronted Dru- 
sus and prophesied disaster to the Romans, and who, 
too old to follow Wittekind's retreat, was buried by 

177 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

him under a pile of stones, with the significant remark, 
"She will come back." 

Many have quoted the statement that Barbarossa 
sleeps in the Unter-or Wunder-berg at Salzburg. But 
this is a mistake: it is really Charlemagne who rests 
in the Unterberg; why he should have moved away 
from his tomb at Aachen (Aix) is a mystery — unless 
he was annoyed that, during the 350 years he occupied 
this throne, he was twice disturbed. Emperor Otto 
III (called "wonder of the world" because of his learn- 
ing) opened the tomb at Aachen in looi, nearly two 
hundred years after Charlemagne's death, and found 
the body, splendidly preserved, seated on its throne in 
full regalia — the sceptre still firmly grasped and the 
gospels lying open on its knees. In 1165, Frederick I 
(Barbarossa) likewise opened the tomb. Charlemagne 
became king of the Franks in 771 ; so we may add to 
his remarkable history the unique record of a monarch 
known to have occupied a throne nearly four centuries. 
The marble throne (still in Aachen cathedral) forming 
his resting place for three and a half centuries, was 
used at the coronation of German emperors till 1558, 
after which the ceremony took place in Frankfort. 

Barbarossa, as you know, was a Hohenstaufen — 
hence his reputed resting place under the ruins of this 
Hohenstaufen castle. While this line of emperors was 
dying out (about the middle of the thirteenth century), 
foreigners took a hand ; William of Holland, Richard 
(son of John Lackland) of England, Alfonso of Cas- 
tile; but none of them could get firm hold of the Ger- 
man throne, so Rudolph of Hapsburg was elected. The 
Hapsburgers lasted (barring a period during which 
they alternated with four Luxemburgers and several 
others) continuously until 1740, by which time the 
[Holy Roman Empire had become decidedly weak and 

178 



TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE 

curtailed; even then they did not definitely resign the 
title, but clung to it till Napoleon's time (1806). 
After he had mercifully deprived them of this empty 
honor, they became mere emperors of Austria. The 
house of Hapsburg, in the person of old Emperor 
Franz Josef, reigns over Austro-Hungary to this very 
day. Thus ended the old lines of German emperors. 

The present line of German emperors is the Hohen- 
zollern, one of whom, Friedrich — then burgrave of 
Nuremberg — helped Kaiser Rudolph to the throne 
long ago; the first of this new line was William I 
(1871-88), whose statue stands so proudly on the 
Kyffhauser, above the so-called resting place of good 
old Barbarossa. This William was not "Emperor of 
Germany" at all, nor "Emperor of the Germans" 
either — to point a distinction on which Bavarians, 
Saxons, Wurtembergers and others are jealously in- 
sistent — but merely "German Emperor"; in other 
words, he was, as his grandson is today, merely 
"president" of the united German states (twenty-five 
in number), comprising four kingdoms, six grand 
duchies, five duchies, seven principalities, three free 
cities, and the imperial — i. e. government — territory of 
Alsace-Lorraine. 

The "presidency" of this federation of German 
states is hereditary, with the crown of Prussia, and the 
"president" is accorded the title "German Emperor." 
His executive capacity, especially in foreign affairs, 
is limited by the Bundesrath, composed of delegates 
from all the states, and his policy is conformable in a 
degree, to the action of the Reichstag, composed of 
delegates elected from the people by the people. Such 
matters as railroads, postal service, military service 
and foreign affairs are handled by the federal govern- 
ment, but to each state is left the management of its 
internal affairs, much as it is with us. 

179 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

"Heavens and earth!" you exclaim, "more history? 
Bobbie, please put on a little more speed and get out 
cf this." 

But putting on speed is not an easy matter today 
for, sad to say, we have at last come upon a poor road 
in Germany. Not the roadmaker's fault, nor the road- 
mender's — simply the fault of heavy traffic which 
keeps the road worn out. Perhaps we were spoiled, 
for this was a broad highway and rather good in 
stretches, but from Eisleben to Halle and from Halle 
to Leipsic we did considerable grumbling. Though 
the rolling country lasted nearly to Leipsic, Pater 
glared with disgust at the many mining and manufac- 
turing towns, and hummed, sadly, snatches of that fine 
song, 

"Von meinem Bergli muss i scheiden," etc. 

The town of Wallhausen, soon passed, contributes 
an interesting story concerning the origin of the noted 
counts von Mansfeld, one of whom was a Spanish gov- 
ernor in the Netherlands; another, a Protestant gen- 
eral in the Thirty Years' War. It seems, while one of 
the kaisers lay encamped here, a favorite knight asked 
the gift of as much land in this "golden valley" as he 
could sow with a bushel of barley ; he sowed a line that 
enclosed the later county of Mansfeld, north of Eisle- 
ben. Envious knights cried "fraud," but the kaiser 
said, "A promise is a promise. That is the man's 
field" (des Mannes Feld). 

Yankee ingenuit}' would be strained to keep pace 
with the shrewdness practiced in ancient Germany. 
The Saxons, though pledged to respect the borders, 
cast envious glances at Thuringia. One day, a Saxon 
warrior appeared in a Thuringian camp and boasted 
he had so much gold he didn't care what he spent it 

1 80 



TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE 

for. A Thuringian — thinking to have a laugh at the 
Saxon's expense — sold him a mantle-ful of earth, for 
the gold. The Saxon scattered this earth, in fine dust, 
over a large area of Thuringian land; then he sum- 
moned his whole tribe to defend his "property," which 
they did with complete success. 

Emperor Louis the Pious fell into a snare of this 
kind, at the time when he was using every opportunity 
to enlarge his roll of sworn retainers. His brother-in- 
law (Henry of Altdorf and Ravensprung), a very 
proud man, long resisted Louis' efforts to deprive him 
of his freeholds. Finally, for his sister's sake, Henry 
agreed to surrender his holdings to the crown and to 
receive them back as a fief — excepting only so much 
land as he could encircle with a golden plow in one 
morning. The emperor agreed, and crafty Henry — 
ordering relays of swift horses, and concealing a small 
gold plow in his clothes — leaped upon his favorite 
steed at daybreak and encircled a goodly portion of 
Bavaria before the time was up. Henry was one of 
the Welfs so closely connected, later on, with Saxony. 

Even the poor Britons suffered at the hands of the 
Saxons they invited to their shores. One Saxon tribe 
demanded, for each warrior, as much land as a hide 
would measure; consent received, the hides were cut 
into threadlike strips and laid so as to include a large 
area, within which the Oxenburg was built. 

Eisleben is rather picturesque. We had not counted 
on seeing many of its historical buildings but our 
unfailing friend, the trolley-track, guided us between 
the Andreas Kirche where Luther preached, and the 
house opposite, in which he died. A few steps further, 
was the Markt with the Luther monument. At the 
next square the tracks were being repaired, and a 
Diensfmann (public porter) frantically waved to us 

i8i 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

and shouted that the street was "gesperrt"; accord- 
ingly Bobbie veered south to gain the nearest parallel 
street, and drove past the house where Luther was 
born, in 1483. The side streets, here, became alleys. 
We drove into one blind alley and, several times tres- 
passed on private courtyards, ere we regained our 
Hallesche Strasse and went our way rejoicing. 

Just beyond Eisleben there is a pretty prospect 
where the road climbs the heights overlooking Siisse 
See, a lake some three miles long. At the end of the 
lake lies Seeburg, with a castle clinging to the side of 
a hill, and directly facing our road which had made a 
sharp turn to the north; apparently the castle was so 
located in order to command the road, which turned 
eastward again just below. Had it been in Luther's 
day, we would have proceeded in fear and trembling, 
with much loosening of swords and adjusting of 
shields by our escort — assuming we could afford one — 
lest a robber baron swoop down to despoil us. 

Halle is an old town on the river Saale. Here Karl 
V (Charles V) brought his victorious army after hav- 
ing vanquished another rebellious duke of Saxony and 
his allies ; brought, also, his exalted prisoners and made 
them do homage, after which (by some juggling of 
manuscripts, it is claimed) he denied them the privi- 
leges he had promised in return. A Catholic kaiser, 
still, but pretty much of a Protestant Saxony, which 
enlists your sympathy for the latter. And yet, I may 
be wrong in this disposition of your sympathies, es- 
pecially if you have read "Barbara Blomberg," an in- 
teresting novel by George Ebers, which tells of Em- 
peror Charles V and of his illustrious son, Don Juan 
of Austria, "hero of Lepanto" — Spain's ill-starred 
fourth governor in the Netherlands. I shall have 
more to say anon, about this same Kaiser Karl V, and 
I think you will be interested. 

182 



TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE 

In Halle, fronting on a branch (the Miihlgraben) of 
the river, are the well-preserved remains of the Mor- 
itzburg, a castle of the fifteenth century. Further up 
the main river are the ruins of castle Giebichenstein 
where Ludwig, landgrave of Thuringia and builder 
of the Wartburg, was imprisoned ; it is said he escaped 
by a daring leap into the river below, and so he has 
been known as "Ludwig der Springer." 

Upon entering Halle, we followed the wrong tracks 
where the trolley-lines diverged. Just as Scoffy began 
to crow at having found the way back across town, 
the street suddenly turned into a huge flight of steps ; 
much as Bobbie bragged of "his" car he did not care 
to attempt these, and so he had to turn around and 
drive to the Markt by a circuitous route. 

The Markt is rather interesting. To the west is the 
Marien Kirche which has four towers, the two facing 
the market being connected, high in the air, by a flying 
bridge or buttress; almost opposite stands the old 
Rathaus — partly Gothic, partly Renaissance. In the 
middle of the square rises the Rothe Thurm (a clock 
tower 267 feet high) and near it a statue of friend Ro- 
land. There is also a statue of the composer Handel, 
the St. Cecilia depicted on its base being a portrait of 
Jennie Lind. An intermittent spring on the south side 
of the Rothe Thurm was dubbed "hunger spring" by 
the peasants, who judged by its flow whether fat or 
lean years were to be expected. 

Halle's Markt has often been visited by nixies from 
the Saale, shopping for supplies. On such occasions 
these beautiful water-maidens dressed like the average 
young women of the town, and were never detected 
unless some one noticed that the edge of their skirts 
was damp. Consequently, many a youth indulged in 
lovemaking that caused his tragic death. Numerous 

183 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

legends attest the fact that nearly every lake and 
stream has its nix or nixie. A nix, ashore, is gener- 
ally a fine-looking chap; for the benefit of ingenuous 
maidens, I add that he always wears a green hat and 
may be positively identified by his green teeth. 

South of the Markt is the twelfth century St. Moritz 
Kirche — near the saltworks, famous for centuries ; this 
church is attended by the Halloren (the saltworkers) 
who, up to recent years, displayed so many striking 
characteristics as to be regarded as a distinct race. 

The cathedral, not of very ancient foundation, and 
the old residence of the archbishops of Madgeburg lie 
on the Miihlgraben, a bit south of the Moritzburg. 
Halle has a seventeenth century university, whose 
schools of medicine and agriculture are popular today. 

Owing to poor roads it required fully three hours 
to reach Halle, a pretty low average speed for fifty- 
two miles. Luncheon was taken at the Hotel Stadt 
Hamburg, where we saw some of the art nouveau in- 
terior decoration for which Germany is celebrated. 

Fortunately Halle was an old story, for a report 
that the road to Leipsic was badly worn occasioned our 
early departure. We did not even visit the sixteenth 
century cemetery, unique in Germany for its enclosure 
of Renaissance arcades. 

Shortly before five p. m., Bobbie headed down Leip- 
ziger Strasse and drove via Bruckdorf, Grobers, 
Schkeuditz, Liitzschena and Mockern to Leipsic. 
Though the run is only about twenty-two miles from 
market place to market place, it was quarter past six 
when we arrived ; but it must be remembered that we 
met heavy traffic all the way, to say nothing of time 
lost entering this great commercial center of Germany, 
the second city in Saxony. A police trap in the sub- 
urbs provided some amusement. A temporary shelter 

184 



TO LEIPSIC VIA HALLE 

from which a telephone wire was stretched, formed the 
starting point of measured distance, and it would have 
escaped notice under ordinary circumstances. Our 
lack of a front number caused one operator to betray 
himself; for he stepped out to the roadside and 
strained his eyes so hard and so noticeably, in his ef- 
fort to find the number which wasn't there, that our 
suspicions were aroused. Though not going very fast, 
we took the hint and slowed down — not knowing the 
local speed limit; when, about a kilometer further on, 
a policeman sauntered out from a garden and scanned 
us, he looked so disappointed we couldn't help laughing. 
Halle is in the province of Saxony which belongs 
to Prussia. Between Modelwitz and Hanichen we 
crossed the border, and entered the kingdom of Sax- 
ony; this kingdom, the Saxony of today, is only 5787 
square miles in extent as against the 134,463 of Prus- 
sia. Smallest of the four German kingdoms, it covers 
little more than an eighth the area of the state of New 
York and is a mere fragment of that great Saxony 
which, known as a tribe about the fourth century 
A. D., grew and spread westward till it harassed the 
shores of Britain; and which became so powerful 
(toward the close of the eighth century) that Charle- 
magne spent thirty-two years subduing it. Strictly 
speaking, the present Saxony is not part of the older 
one — merely a portion of Slavonic conquests made by 
the Saxons when they enlarged their holdings toward 
the east. Of that greater Saxony, dismembered at the 
time of the humiliation of Henry the Lion, the east- 
ern portion (Thuringia and the Slavonic conquests) 
became the duchy and electorate of Saxony, going first 
to the house of Ascania and in course of time to the 
Markgraf (margrave) of Meissen. Joint heirs of the 
Meissen line divided it, Thuringia and the electorate 
going to one, Meissen and the eastern part to the 

185 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

other. In 1547 the electoral vote and some territory 
was given to the Meissen branch, which prospered, in- 
creased its territory, and finally founded the present 
kingdom of Saxony. Thuringia, on the contrary, 
soon split into the petty states of Weimar, Gotha, Al- 
tenburg, Meiningen, etc., which gives rise to that con- 
fusing array of Saxon duchies: Saxe-Altenburg, 
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Saxe-Meiningen, and the grand 
duchy of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach. Besides these 
"dukeries" there are the principalities of Schwarzburg- 
Rudolstadt (which contains the Kyffhauser),Schwarz- 
burg-Sondershausen, Reuss-Greiz, and Reuss-Gera- 
Schleiz. 

Not undivided states — oh, dear no! — for seven of 
them have exclaves mixed up among the others ; and a 
fine Joseph's coat they make of the map, I warrant you. 
Each is a state of the German empire, and a nice mess 
they make of our geography and of our attempts to 
read the foreign columns in the newspaper. However, 
it is some satisfaction to know where they are, how 
they got there, and that they lie all in one group. We 
drove straight through them on the way back from 
Dresden, and they looked very pretty and quite in- 
offensive. East of them lies the kingdom of Saxony ; 
south of them, the kingdom of Bavaria — once that 
duchy of Bavaria Henry the Lion tried to retain, but 
that was taken from him and handed to the Wittels- 
bachs, in which dynasty it remains today. North and 
west of these "dukeries" lies Prussia; great, over- 
grown Prussia which, in Henry the Lion's day, con- 
sisted merely of Brandenburg (then newly wrested 
from the Wends and barely tenable) and of the orig- 
inal Prussia — east of the Oder river — peopled by the 
Preussen (Prussians), a race of the fiercest, most un- 
tamable heathen. Henry's own Brunswick-Liine- 
burg, and Westphalia were later added to this nucleus. 

186 



CHAPTER VIII. 
LEIPZIG (Leipsic). 

JUNE 25TH 27TH. 

LEIPZIG, the fifth city of Germany, is of mixed 
Germanic and Slavonic origin tempered by 
Saxon civihzation, and its very name is de- 
rived from the Slav Lipsi or Lipsk, meaning town of 
the lime trees. 

Otto the Rich, margrave of Meissen, gave quite 
some impetus to trade in Leipzig — already favored 
through lying at the intersection of important trade 
routes — ^by prohibiting any competing public markets 
within a radius of four miles. The Leipzig fairs, there- 
fore, assumed great importance, and Emperor Maxi- 
milian widened the circle of restriction, also guarantee- 
ing safe conduct to travelers to this city. Though the 
noted trade routes have been abandoned in favor of 
railroad transportation, and though markets and fairs 
have become obsolete through modern business meth- 
ods, great fairs still take place here, and those held in 
Easter week and at Michaelmas are of considerable 
actual importance in the commercial world. Nearly 
five million dollars worth of business is done in the fur 
trade alone — leather, cloth, woolens, glass, and linen 
also figuring prominently; one New York importer 
who started manufacturing knickknacks to compete 
with foreign bronzes, was amused to find he could not 
create a market in New York until he had introduced 
them at the Messe (fair) in Leipsic. This city is also 

187 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

the center of the bookselling and publishing business 
in Germany. 

For landmarks of the battle of Leipsic one should go 
into the suburbs of Thonberg, Mockern and Probsthei- 
da; this was the center of the French position, and 
from the Napoleonstein near Thonberg, where Na- 
poleon himself directed operations, one may get a good 
view of important parts of the battlefield. Near by is 
a very interesting collection of relics. 

Germans call this three-days' battle (Oct. 16-18-19, 
1 81 3) — in which some 450,000 men were engaged and 
probably over 75,000 left upon the field — the Battle of 
the Nations (Volkerschlacht). Indeed, this was the 
real "Waterloo" which shattered Napoleon's power 
and after which the allies pursued him and inflicted a 
continued, though not unbroken, series of defeats. 
That the allies were so extremely shortsighted as not 
to incarcerate a man of his calibre in a safe and remote 
spot, and that they should consequently have part of 
their work to do over again at Waterloo, does not 
entitle Waterloo to the distinction of marking Na- 
poleon's downfall and Europe's salvation. 

Just before entering Leipzig we passed through 
Mockern, where the Prussians scored a victory over 
the French in the bloody fight of Oct. 16, 181 3. Two 
and a half miles due north of Mockern — ^but more 
readily accessible from the city — is Breitenfeld, where 
two battles of the Thirty Years' War took place; in 
1 63 1, Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, allied with the 
Saxons, defeated the Catholic general Tilly, and, in 
1642, the Swedes — now fighting against united Ger- 
many — defeated the imperialists. 

In Leipzig, at the corner of Dresdener Strasse and 
Salomon Strasse, is a monument to commemorate the 
storming of the Grimmaisches Thor by Major Friccius 



LEIPSIC 

after the battle of 1813, and at the corner of Ran- 
stadter Steinweg and Leibnitz Strasse is a stone to 
mark the location of the bridge prematurely blown up 
by the French to the destruction of their rear guard. 
The spot where Prince Poniatowski was drowned is 
marked by a stone on Lessing Strasse. 

A curious feature of that pretty park, the Rosenthal, 
is an artificial hill. The good Leipzigers had long 
been chaffed about the extreme "flatness" of their town 
— perhaps not only as regards topography — so they de- 
cided to build a hill. All the ashes and cinders were 
piled in one spot in the Rosenthal, and when the mound 
had risen to the treetops it was covered with topsoil, 
sodded and planted with trees; a path winds up to 
the summit crowned with a pavilion, and now the Leip- 
ziger proudly points out his Scherbelberg. 

You will find many interesting old buildings should 
you care to look for them — some, such as the old 
Rathaus, the Fiirstenhaus, the old Gewandhaus, and 
Auerbach's Keller of Goethe's "Faust," hardly require 
seeking. The fine ring of parks and promenades in 
the center of the town is, as usual, the site of old walls 
and fortifications. A row of eight-story houses 
(nearly five centuries old) on the Thomas Ring re- 
calls the fact that the city was noted in the Middle 
Ages for its tall buildings. 

One could probably see the city pretty well in two 
days — certainly in three, as the museums and galleries 
are not extensive. Still, many travelers like to de- 
vote some time to the study of foreign life in the parks, 
cafes, and theatres. Plays begin so very early here 
that it is not unusual, going to an evening performance 
at the Neues Theater, to find it still broad daylight 
when you step from the foyer to the balcony, after the 
first act. 

189 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The building of the Relchsgericht (Supreme Court 
of the empire), is a good example of modern German 
monumental architecture, as the museum and the uni- 
versity library are of the preceding style. The Paul 
Knauer building on Ross Strasse, almost opposite the 
Hotel Hauffe, is a capital exponent of Germany's 
famous art nouveau in architecture, of which school 
of art Munich is really the centre. 

Student life in Leipzig proves very interesting to 
anyone who has the good fortune to see it from the 
inside. The university, founded in 1409, is one of the 
largest and most important on the Continent. Duel- 
ing is still in vogue among the student fraternities, 
though an adverse feeling is arising. A German's 
point of view regarding this custom is, you must re- 
member, very different from ours; Germany is an 
armed nation with foes on every border, and war is an 
imminent and stern reality — not, as with us, a vague 
possibility provoked or avoided, according to our own 
desire. Small wonder then, that teaching fellows to 
fight and take punishment without flinching was long 
considered one of the greatest benefits student societies 
could offer. 

Before a student is permitted to join one of these 
V erbindungen he goes through a novitiate during 
which he is called a Fuchs (literally, "fox"), and does 
not wear the full colors of the fraternity either on the 
band of his cap or in the ribbon across his chest. To 
become a full-fledged Bursche he must demonstrate his 
ability to fight creditably on the dueling floor, as well 
as show his knowledge of the history of the entire 
German Burschenschaft and of their insignia, being 
drilled first of all in local usages by the Fuchsmajor. 
Untold prodigies in beer drinking are essential to the 
initiation ceremonies at the Commers (meeting), when 

190 



LEIPSIC 

the neophyte sits on a keg and sings a song of more 
than a dozen verses, draining a stein after each. 

To go duehng is called "auf die Mensur gehen," the 
use of tht Mensur (measure, test) being obvious; and 
because no thrusting or lunging is permissible in this 
style of swordplay, the expression "sich schlagen" 
(from "schlagen" to hit or strike) is often employed 
to signify "having a bout." The contestants stand face 
to face, toeing a chalk line on the floor, and are allowed 
neither to stir from that spot nor to dodge or flinch. 
As it is the most natural thing in the world to flinch 
when receiving a blow on the head, special attention 
is given to curing the new fencer of this habit. He 
wears a thick felt skullcap and is pitted against a far 
superior swordsman of his Verhindung, armed with 
the customary, blunt practice-sword. The experienced 
man needs but a minute to penetrate the Fuch's de- 
fense and soon begins to rain blows upon that felt-clad 
head; eventually, the Fuchs gets accustomed to these 
whacks and ceases to flinch. 

Did you ever witness a Mensur f No ? Then come 
with me, now. Being in Leipzig we cross the border, 
into Prussia, to have our meeting, for laws against 
dueling are less severe there than in Saxony. Oh, 
yes, there is a penalty for dueling; it is one of those 
paradoxes which arise where you wish to control a 
thing yet do not wish to abolish it. The Kaiser is said 
to have remarked that if he caught any of his officers 
dueling he would see that severe imprisonment was 
meted out to the offenders ; but if any officer declined 
a challenge, dismissal from the army and lasting dis- 
grace should be his portion. 

For novices in fencing, friendly matches (often lim- 
ited to fifteen rounds) are arranged ; other bouts are 
the results of formal challenges arising from sport- 

191 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

ing rivalry, or quarrel and insult. At some quiet inn 
with a spacious hall upstairs, we will find our Bur- 
schen and those of some other Verbindung. Members 
do not go there in a body, lest this invite police inter- 
ference; and for the same reason they wear no "col- 
ors" on the way. A picket at the private entrance lets 
us pass after a few words from our friend. Upstairs 
in the large hall the fraternities are mingling — old 
friends are greeted, and new ones made, over a social 
glass of beer. 

In an alcove, off the main hall and a few steps down, 
battle is already in progress. Little general interest 
is aroused by this match, for the contestants are both 
new at the game and not likely to hurt each other, so 
the buzz of conversation almost drowns the sharp click- 
clack, click-clack of swords. But we foreigners must 
have a look at the affair. The fighters are as well 
protected as line-bucking football players, though not 
in the same fashion. Head and face are the objective 
points in this duel; one's neck is protected against 
chance blows by a heavy, leather-bound collar; eyes 
are shielded by huge, projecting, steel goggle-frames 
fitting tight so as to prevent blood from trickling into 
them. The front of the body is covered by a leather 
apron, the left shoulder padded, and the sword-arm 
wound with silk bandages until twice its natural size; 
sword-hand and wrist are covered by a heavy gauntlet ; 
the other hand being held behind one's back, out of 
harm's way. The tightly swathed sword-arm, used to 
parry the cut in tierce, is supported horizontally by 
one's second, between rounds, to prevent an influx of 
blood. Most weapons have bell-hilts to protect the 
hand and wrist, though in some places (like Munich) 
they use large metal basket-hilts. In no case does the 
weapon (a sort of rapier with a blade five-eighths of 

192 



LEIPSIC 

an inch wide) have a point, though ground to razor 
edges for the lower third of its length. There is no 
object in having a point since thrusting and lunging 
are barred; besides, it might break off and inflict a 
dangerous wound behind the ear, or even injure a 
spectator; so, nowadays, these swords (Schlager) are 
cut square at the end. 

Click-clack, click-clack, goes the shining steel — one 
minute, I think it was, to a round — then "HaltT 
Crash, go the seconds' Schlager, knocking up the en- 
gaged weapons ; the doctor looks the men over ; not a 
scratch on either. "All right, are you ready?" 
'Taratr "Los!" Click-clack, click-clack again, till 
the next call of time, and so on for some thirty rounds 
which constitute a match, unless injuries to either 
party make a cessation advisable. 

The match over — neither swordsman has so much 
as a scratch. "I told you so" is heard on all sides, and 
those who had hoped for something more exciting turn 
away disappointed. 

But the next bout will be a good one. "Here's 
where you get something worth while," says the 
Bursche who is our guide. Others think so, too. The 
tables are deserted, and the crowd gathers round the 
place of battle, while we, standing on chairs, look over 
their heads. "That is best," says our guide, "for if 
you don't like to see blood you can get down. I had 
an Englishman here, last time, and he fainted." We 
promise not to be as timorous as that. 

Click-clack, they are at it ! More clicks and arcs of 
shining steel flashing quicker than our eyes can follow 
— "Halt!" crash — the round is over. "Did they get 
anything?" Yes, one of them did — a cut on top of 
his head, and blood is trickling down either side of 
his ear. The doctor examines the cut. "It is noth- 

193 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

ing — two inches long, but light." The scorekeepers 
scribble busily and the next round begins. 

The fellow with the cut is mad. Zip ! his opponent 
has a split lip. Zip ! again, and he gets a slash on his 
cheek — two wounds in the same round ; though bleed- 
ing profusely they are "not bad." But a later round 
gives him a cut on the forehead — a circular cut that 
lets the skin drop down and hang over one eye. "Aha ! 
this looks like business," is the general comment. "I 
think we'll stop," says the doctor. "Yes, I should say 
"we zvill stop," he exclaims, as he examines the other 
fellow. "That forehead is not so bad, but this man 
has another cut on the head right across the first, a 
nasty one, too — down to the bone." So the bout is 
ended. The scorekeepers begin appraising the injuries 
and the combatants are led away to have their wounds 
dressed. 

Other encounters follow and turn out much the 
same, though perhaps less bloody. It is considered 
nearly as creditable to get a Schmiss (slash or scar) 
as, by superior skill, to avoid one; for a scar of this 
sort is regarded with almost as much pride as a wound 
received in battle. Certainly, it is a sign of pluck and 
endurance, for no anesthetic is given — the young pa- 
tients sitting up to have splinters of bone brushed out 
of a cut in their heads, and half a dozen stitches taken 
in the wound, with never a murmur. 

Of course we take in the surgical operations as well, 
but like them much less ; for my part, I am glad to get 
out of the surgery and indulge in a glass of kiimmel to 
brace me up a bit — being determined to disappoint our 
guide by appearing quite undisturbed, and not even 
suggesting a resemblance to his Englishman. 

Equally skilled contestants are always chosen if 
possible, though, of course, the unexpected does hap- 

194 



LEIPSIC 

pen. A left-handed man is said to have an advantage 
over the right-handed one; indeed, the latter requires 
special training in defense against a left-handed op- 
ponent. 

We would like to stay for a sabre duel, the event of 
the day; but this is a real duel (the outcome of hard 
words and boasting) , not a friendly bout as the others 
had been. To be sure it is not Sdhelsuhne, which I 
might translate as a outrance, — "to the death" seem- 
mg too melodramatic, although not infrequently cor- 
rect. Vital points are accordingly protected (for ex- 
ample, the left side and the left shoulder) as a descend- 
ing blow on the shoulder has been known to cleave 
clear through collarbone and carotid artery, proving 
instantly fatal. However, mild as this Sdbel (sabre) 
duel is, it is considered too serious for strangers to 
witness. 

So the Mensur — though scarred faces are not agree- 
able unless viewed from the standpoint of a peculiar 
code of ethics — is neither dangerous nor terrible. The 
real danger lies in the fact that any one who has been 
through the Mensur is liable to a challenge in after 
years under more serious circumstances. 

For example, a chap I knew got into an altercation 
with an army officer during his one year's volunteer 
service. Nothing would do but they must fight it out 
Sdbelsuhne. My friend had been the best swordsman 
in his university but, with this engagement in prospect, 
he hurried home and took extra lessons from the uni- 
■s'ersity fencing master. His mother told me of the 
fright the whole family experienced, and their great 
relief when he telegraphed that he had come off with- 
out a scratch. The officer, a lieutenant, was considered 
the best sword in the garrison. They met — stripped 
to the waist and unprotected. At first, honors were 

195 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

even; then my friend just missed in an attack which, 
however, drew blood by a scratch extending across his 
adversar}^'s chest. Infuriated, the officer, who had 
expected an easy victor}^, threw caution to the winds 
and fought so recklessly that, in a few minutes, he re- 
ceived a cut on his sword-arm which severed two ten- 
dons and put an end to the duel. 

Fine reading this makes for the beginning of the 
twentieth century ! You'd almost think you were back 
in colonial days. However, all's well that ends well; 
and this duel surely did end well. Either of those 
rash chaps might easily have been killed — a fine kettle 
of fish for all concerned, especially for the survivor. 

Besides teaching fighting and endurance, the Ver- 
bindiing teaches manliness, courtesy, and manners. 
One day in the week is coiileiirfrei (color-free), but 
on other days the fraternity cap and ribbon are worn 
and the various mandates must be observed. Carry- 
ing umbrellas is considered effeminate; therefore, 
Burschcn, like army officers, do not use any. They 
must not haggle over purchases; they must not carry 
large, unsightly bundles ; they must be courteous ; they 
must never omit a proper tip, etc., etc. By them, 
swordplay is considered "the manly art/' and to settle 
differences with the fists is extremely vulgar. You 
must not assume, however, that this is wholly due to 
ignorance; many German students have taken lessons 
in "bux'n," as they call it, and are eager to put on the 
gloves with an Englishman or an American. 

Though their militant life does not, as a rule, appeal 
to i\mericans. the students show other traits that are 
both attractive and amusing. 

"Did you ever drink Lichtenhainer ?" inquires the 
Bursche who took us to the Mensiir. "No, what is it, 
a kind of wine?" we respond. "No, indeed, it's a 

196 



LEIPSIC 

kind of beer; very pale and very mild. Lighter in 
color than Pilsener." It is brewed in Jena, I believe, 
and the students there can consume untold quantities 
without being any the worse. 

So away we go with our guide, along a narrow street, 
to the sign of The Golden Hat (Zum Goldnen Hut). 
As we enter, a burst of light, laughter and song almost 
overwhelms us. A score of students sitting at two 
long tables are singing, "Herz, mein Herz, warum so 
traurig," etc. Of course they are not "traurig" at all; 
on the contrary, very happy. Some people, who admit 
that German songs are very beautiful, complain that so 
many of them are sad. There are hundreds of comical 
German songs; but the finest compositions, the world 
over, are nearly always sentimental or sad. The hap- 
pier a German becomes, the sadder the song he sings ; 
and when he is real downright happy he loves to sing 
the Lorelei, which runs : — 

"Ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten das ich so traurig 
bin, 
Ein Marchen aus alten Zeiten, das kommt mir nicht 
aus dem Sinn," etc. 

This might be translated : — 

I know not what may be portending, that I am so sad 

today, 
An old legend of sorrowful ending holds me in its 

memory's sway. 

The singers are so busy it requires no less than three 
pretty barmaids to keep their throats from getting dry. 
It is a merry, kind-hearted crowd. Seume says : — 

"Wo man singt, da lass' dich ruhig nieder, 
Bose Menschen haben keine Lieder." 
197 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

That is: — 

Where there's singing, you may safely tarry ; 
The wicked have no tunes to carry. 

We were introduced all round as "friends from 
America." One chap jumped up and introduced us 
formally to the barmaids, somewhat to their con- 
fusion, especially as he immediately proceeded to ex- 
amine them upon the subject of "Amerika" — its loca- 
tion, size, religion, government, etc. ; this was produc- 
tive of quite some fun, owing equally to the vagueness 
and the wit of the answers. 

Another had the happy inspiration that, as newcom- 
ers, we must treat (schmeissen) if we joined the table. 
"Ja, ja! eine Spritskanne schmeissen," echoed the 
crowd, and forthwith began to sing Franz Abt's fine 
melody, "Die Lindenwirthin," 

"Keinen tropfen im Becher mehr, 
Und der Beutel schlaff und leer, 
Lechzend Herz und Zunge," 

a song often used like our, "How dry I am." 

The Spritskanne was a large tankard from which 
the Lichtenhainer beer is poured; it is like a huge 
coffeepot of vertical strips of alternately light and 
dark wood, and has a copper spout. The beer is 
served in wooden mugs which match the Kanne, and 
tasted somewhat like buttermilk. We thought the 
boys were playing one of their pranks, as in these 
mugs we could see nothing but the foaming top of the 
beverage ; but a glass filled at our request, set our sus- 
picions at rest. 

I was inclined to think it might be a sort of ale, but 
it isn't. There is a drink called Gose (sold in the sub- 
urb of Gholis) which is as popular with Leipzigers as 

198 



LEIPSIC 

the dreadful Weissbier is with citizens of Berlin; it Is 
made by top fermentation, so I presume it must be a 
kind of ale. They serve it in flat, long-necked flasks, 
such as have elsewhere gone out of fashion centuries 
ago. The fermentation gathers in the neck of the 
flask, and, by a skillful fillip, one throws this flotsam on 
the ground, after which the rest of the beverage is 
ready for consumption. Gose is sour and the taste 
for it, like that for ale, is an acquired one ; it is so very 
sour that even those who indulge regularly, take a 
Knickehein (sherry and Qgg), before and after, to for- 
tify their stomachs. 

Let us return to our friends in the Golden Hat. 
The students display a comradeship and frank affec- 
tion that is quite a revelation to the beholder. When 
an old pedler wanders in with flowers for sale, the 
fellows buy extensively and present each other with 
boutonnieres as a token of mutual regard. When a 
vendor of picture postcards appears they invest quite 
heavily ; pencils and fountain pens now come into play, 
and cards are sent to friends all over the country — 
cards which recall this or that jolly outing or social 
gathering, or a hard grind over the books in Gymna- 
sium (high school) days. Sometimes a number of 
chaps is called upon to sign a card someone else is 
sending. Thus many a warm friendship is renewed 
or fostered which would inevitably perish of dull ef- 
forts at regular correspondence. Songs, jokes and 
witty arguments are the order of the evening, while sly 
gibes and genuine compliments fly back and forth. 
With regret we hear Frau Wirthin's announcement 
that closing time is at hand. 

For real fun you should attend a Commers (regular 
meeting of a Verbindung) . I shall be generous, and 
take you to one of these also. We shall go late so as 

199 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

to avoid the business part of the meeting. When we 
arrive, the Burschen are gathered about an L-shaped 
table; the chairman presiding at the middle of the 
short arm, the Fiichse sitting at the lower end of the 
long arm — below the salt, as it were — in charge of the 
Fuchsniajor, their instructor and mentor. 

A succession of songs is chosen by the chairman. 
They are sung well and with evident zest; during the 
intervals occur beer-drinking, smoking, toasts and 
Salamanders, (this last, a peculiar ceremony in which 
the steins are rubbed upon the table). Lest some one 
be unable to recall the score or more of stanzas many 
songs contain, Commers songbooks are supplied, their 
covers studded with large gilt tacks to keep them clear 
of the beer, so liable to get spilled. Fortunately, not 
all the verses are sung, only those selected by the chair- 
man. Hilarity grows and spirits wax high. A great 
deal of beer is consumed, but the fellows seem to stand 
it; even if they didn't no trouble would ensue, for the 
most comical set of parliamentary rules governs the 
meeting, making a serious dispute impossible. Any 
one who has to be called to order frequently, is put 
into Bierverhann by the chair. While in this "beer- 
ban" the offender may not join the drinking, singing 
or conversation, and he must be redeemed, so to speak, 
by one who is hierehrlich ("honest," in good stand- 
ing) ; this is accomplished by drinking with the of- 
fender and declaiming some Latin incantation. 

For a serious breach of etiquette doppelter (double) 
Bierverbann may be the penalty, and this offender has 
to be redeemed twice, the first process getting him only 
into the ordinary form of Verhann. Any one in Bier- 
verhann has his name put on the blackboard, that all 
may read and be warned. The Fuchse are not honored 
by having their names thus inscribed ; instead, the out- 

200 



LEIPSIC 

line of a pig is drawn, with as many legs as there are 
offending Fuchse. Since they generally get into trou- 
ble together, being often put up to it on the sly by the 
Fuchsmajor, the pig may have eight or ten legs; on 
the other hand, it may have only one. Another comi- 
cal way of settling one of those hyper-serious argu- 
ments drinking sometimes engenders, is for bystand- 
ers to demand that it be settled by the "Bierprobe" 
(beer test). Each of the disputants is given a full 
stein of beer — a neighbor acting as referee. "Setzt 
an" (get set), he says, at which they raise the steins 
to their lips, and then, ''Los" (go), whereat they begin 
to drink. The one who can first empty his stein and 
cry "Bierjunge" wins the argument, and it is custom- 
ary to invert the stein to show that it is really empty. 
Should one of them begin drinking before the word is 
given, the referee cries "Halt! Wechselt die Waif en" 
(exchange weapons), and of course the man who was 
good gets the benefit of a handicap. The whole thing, 
you see, is a parody on the Mensur. So fun and 
ridicule take care of those whom drink makes com- 
bative rather than jovial. As a matter of fact, out- 
right drunkenness is rare, considering the great quan- 
tity of beer and wine consumed in Germany. Even 
the foreigner quite unused to drinking, surprises him- 
self by the amount of beer he can safely imbibe. 
Whether it be the climate or the beer's quality, I do 
not know, but the fact remains. 

In their pranks German students are no better and 
no worse than students elsewhere. Their practical 
jokes are extremely funny, but seldom, if ever, take 
the form of hazing or rough horseplay. There are 
no forcible collisions with the police in the pursuit of 
these jokes, as the police do not arrest students, simply 
demanding to see their student-cards. These are is- 

201 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

sued by the university, which is responsible for the 
boys' behavior and makes short shrift of undesirable 
characters. 

No regular curriculum is in force, and a student may 
attend lectures or not. To get a degree he need only 
pass the examinations held at stated times, in stated 
subjects; accordingly, he may spend either a few 
years or a great many, in obtaining it. That much 
besides learning goes to make university life of value, 
is a fact fully recognized in Germany. The boys have 
had their noses pretty close to the grindstone in "prep- 
school" days, and it is expected that, unless a chap is 
too poor to afford the time, his first two or three 
semesters will not amount to much so far as the pur- 
suit of learning is concerned. 



202 




THE king's church. {P. 2 1 6. 




THE OPER-A. HOUSE. {P. 2 1 6.) 

BEAUTIFUL DRESDEN. 



CHAPTER IX. 

LEIPSIC TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN. 

June 27TH — 71 miles. 

ABOUT eleven o'clock on Saturday, June 27th, 
we left Leipzig and headed for Dresden via 
Meissen. Driving out of town on the con- 
tinuation of Dresdener Strasse, we passed many a 
queer little private garden so typical of large German 
cities. Big factory towns may look quite important 
from a distance, but they never have these hundreds of 
vegetable and flower gardens by which you can always 
tell you are approaching a city of the first class, such 
as Hamburg, Dresden, Leipzig, or Berlin. The Ger- 
man possesses an innate love of nature and, cooped up 
in the confines of a big city, nothing will do but he 
must have his little strip of garden on the outskirts, 
where he may raise his favorite vegetables and flowers 
and putter around to his heart's content. 

It looks very odd to see scores upon scores of these 
little enclosures, side by side, with never a house near 
them — sometimes boasting a summer pavilion or a 
tool-shed, sometimes not even this. Many are quite 
pretty, with rose arbors, rockeries, flower beds and 
small trees; others are entirely devoted to the prosaic 
culture of vegetables. 

There is a rising young lawyer in Dresden who, 
during the week, is a regular society swell; but on 
Sunday he goes out to a little patch of farm land near 
the "Sachsische Schweiz," dons overalls, and digs, 

203 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

weeds, and plants all day long, getting just as tired 
and dirty as he likes. Because his fruit and vegetables 
lie open to the depredations of the small boy, during 
the week, he has hit upon the expedient of giving each 
of the local constables the fruit of certain trees, with 
the result that, among them, they maintain a close 
watch upon that particular property. 

The road to Dresden carried us through Wurzen, 
Oschatz and Meissen. A good road, but rather dusty, 
and the numerous wheelmen we met swore quite volu- 
bly at the dust cloud we raised. They will get used 
to that in time; the practice of motor-touring is still 
young in Germany. Indeed, outside of large cities 
we seldom saw more than two cars a day ; some days, 
none at all. While we felt sorry for travelers along 
the highway, and did not blame them for feeling 
"sore," we took comfort in the fact that other motors 
seemed to raise more dust than ours. 

Along this route there was the usual succession of 
picturesque German villages. At Bennewitz the river 
Mulde was crossed and soon after we came to Wur- 
zen, which has an old Dom (cathedral) of the twelfth 
century and a castle of the fifteenth. A rising grade 
takes us between the Steinberg and the Wolfsberg and 
into the forest of Hubertusburg. At Oschatz the road 
goes down hill abruptly and, beyond Lonnewitz, we 
were glad to be again warned by our Ravenstein of a 
sharp descent to the railroad. A steep grade up to 
Obermoschiitz brought us our first view of the Elbe. 
Sliding carefully down the hill to Zehren, we followed 
the Elbe to Meissen. 

Meissen — older than Dresden, Leipzig or Berlin — 
is the oldest town in Saxony, one of the oldest in Ger- 
many. It was founded by Henry the Fowler, forebear 
of the Saxon line of emperors, and first sovereign to 

204 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

take hold and create a semblance of order out of the 
chaotic remnants of Charlemagne's empire. Henry 
defeated the Danes and established the Mark Schles- 
wig against them; he marched across the frozen 
marshes and captured Brannebor, theWend's chief city, 
establishing the Mark Brannebor, which became the 
great Mark Brandenburg and later the kingdom of 
Prussia. In 930 he founded the Mark of Meissen as 
a check to the Hungarians. How many high tides of 
invasion by those fierce Magyars must have surged and 
roared round this grim, fortressed hill jutting out into 
the Elbe ! It is hard to picture this now, as you look 
down from the Albrechtsburg over that beautiful, 
peaceful valley. Henry couldn't do much against the 
Hungarians at first; had to pay them tribute, in fact. 
Having got his other borders under control he set to 
work to improve his fortress of Merseburg, and estab- 
lished new ones at Goslar and Quedlinburg. Most im- 
portant of all, he taught his troops to fight on horse- 
back like the Hungarians. Thus in 933 he was able 
to defeat them decisively, which put an end to all trib- 
ute. But it by no means put an end to their inroads, 
which continued during the reigns of several of his 
successors. 

These Marks were the border counties, so to speak, 
and the Markgraf (margrave) was count, or lord, of 
the marches, marks, borders, boundaries, or whatever 
you wish to call them. In our colonial days, it was a 
custom of great landed proprietors to "ride the bound- 
aries" of their possessions at regular intervals in order 
10 ascertain that blazes, surveyors' monuments, bound- 
ary stones, etc., were still in place; that trails and roads 
were in good condition; that nobody had committed 
depredations or encroachments on the land : in fact, to 
see that everything was as it should be. This, in a 

205 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

much magnified sense, was the duty of the Markgraf 
respecting a given stretch of the empire's border; he 
poHced the border, punished minor depredations, and 
served as outpost or sentinel in case of general inva- 
sions. 

A Burggraf (burgrave) was lord of one of the 
kaiser's castles, administering imperial affairs in the 
castle and its dependencies. A Landgraf was overlord 
of a given section of country and, without the special 
duties just mentioned, owed the kaiser military service, 
and paid other dues, directly or through his sovereign 
duke or king. 

You probably all know Mont St. Michel, off the 
coast of Brittany, even if you have not seen it — that 
great rock which combines church, castle, town and 
fortress, all in one. Seen from the Elbe, Meissen 
looms up half town, half fortress, with the Ancient Al- 
brechtsburg dominating the mass, and the spires of the 
Dom soaring against the sky; and you exclaim, "It's 
the Mont St. Michel of Germany." It was more than 
this to Germany and to the Anglo-Saxon race. 

That charming story "Ekkehard," a literary classic 
by Victor von Scheffel who wrote "The Trumpeter of 
Sackingen," describes an inroad of the Huns into the 
duchy of Swabia which once comprised Baden, Wur- 
temberg and part of Bavaria. Barbarossa was a duke 
of Swabia. 

Our first view of Meissen was not from across the 
river, for we approached along the bank upon which 
the city is located; but the gray walls of the fortress 
looked impressive, towering above us as we drove into 
town. The quaint fifteenth century Rathaus looked 
very interesting; so did the old, old houses with red- 
tiled roofs, and the crazy, narrow, winding streets. But 
the hotels of the old town did not promise to be as 

206 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

satisfactory to the inner man as did the restaurant in 
the castle-yard, so we decided to stop there for lunch. 

Well, this required some fancy driving you may be 
sure, and Bobbie earned his laurels there, if anywhere. 
Streets were narrow and steep, turns sharp and unex- 
pected. Several streets have steps but, fortunately, we 
did not meet any, as we had in Halle. Up we went, 
and under the Burgbriicke; then round and round, up 
and up, on top of the Burgbriicke and over it, to the 
castle. Several times we reached what looked like a 
"jumping off" place. Once we took the wrong street, 
and it needed skillful driving to get our big touring-car 
turned again and to twist it around the remaining cor- 
ners, and through narrow archways that allowed just 
sufficient clearance for a chance pedestrian to save his 
vest buttons from our mudguards. 

But we reached the castle-yard at last, and Pater 
declares he saw a start of surprise on the bronze fea- 
tures of old Albrecht the Brave, who died in the year 
fifteen hundred and might little expect to receive 
guests in touring-cars. 

Stumbling up and down the odd but somewhat dan- 
gerous steps in the hall of the restaurant building, we 
emerged on the terrace where we could dine under 
arbors or trees and, at the same time, enjoy the fine 
view. Medieval Meissen lay below us, a picturesque 
jumble of old buildings, whose equal is to be found 
perhaps nowhere in Germany save at Nuremberg. 

In the stable-yard of the inn we found a taxicab 
from Dresden, which discovery throws a peculiar light 
on Pater's remark about the Brave Albert's features. 
Yet it in nowise detracts from Bobbie's achievement; 
for if you compare a short taxicab driven by a man 
familiar with the turns, with a huge, heavy car driven 
by a stranger, you have— as the Irish would say — a 
gray horse of another color. 

207 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

To our disappointment a passing shower pattered 
over the Garten, which deterred us from following the 
delightful German custom of dining outdoors. The 
dining-room windows showed a considerable view, but 
I fear we were too much amused by Bobbie and the 
taxi's chauffeur to admire the landscape. They had 
decided to brave the elements, and were taking lunch 
at the terrace edge, in the shelter of a tree, engaged 
meantime in a lively conversation ; that one understood 
no German and the other no English seemed to make 
not a whit of difference. Bobbie afterward declared 
they understood each other fairly well, though what 
wonderful motor- Volapiik they employed he would 
not disclose. 

Another distraction, was a gathering of German 
prep-school boys with their teachers, in the great hall 
adjoining our room, and it was interesting to listen 
to the speechmaking and cheering and to the singing 
of student song. 

Scoffy initiated us into the mysteries of Erdbeer- 
bowle (strawberry punch) which with Maiwein or 
Maibowle (May wine or May punch) is a delicious 
form of the "cup that cheers but not inebriates." 

I should like to devote a chapter to the Albrechts- 
burg and the cathedral, but lack of space forbids. 
This "palace," one of the finest and most extensive 
German castles of the fifteenth century, was erected by 
the co-regents Albert and Ernest. They were the 
rulers who divided the duchy and electorate of Sax- 
ony which, as before mentioned, had fallen to the mar- 
graves of Meissen: Albert got the electorate and 
Meissen and some dependencies, which grew to be the 
present kingdom of Saxony; and Ernest got Thuringia 
which, as we know, eventually split up into the petty 
Saxon states. 

208 




BURGBRUCKE, AND HOUSES AND GARDENS ON THE TOWN WALL. {F. 20g.) 




COURTYARD, SHOWING STAIRCASE; VIEW OF CATHEDRAL MINUS THE 
SPIRES. (P. 209.) 

MEISSEN CASTLE. 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

The castle has a fine, circular, exterior staircase on 
the side facing the court, which suggested the staircase 
at Blois, though by no means as large nor as ornate. 
Inside, we find two stories of magnificent vaulted 
apartments. One, I think it is the small banqueting 
hall, is at the apex of the building and has windows on 
three sides, giving three quite different but equally- 
beautiful views of the valley. Nearly every room is 
at a different angle from its neighbor and presents a 
different vista. Truly the sites that made fine natural 
defenses in olden times, afford fine natural scenery 
now. The living-rooms on the upper floors and the 
offices on the lower ones are not shown to visitors ; no 
dungeons are shown, though there must have been 
many in those dank cellars in the rocks. Scoffy and 
the Youth once caused the guide quite some uneasiness 
by opening a trapdoor which revealed a flight of stone 
steps leading down into darkness. 

The walls of all the great halls are adorned with 
modern frescoes illustrating the history of the castle 
and of its doughty margraves and dukes. The effect 
is rather pleasing, suggesting old-time tapestries. One 
scene shows the kidnapping of the princes, Albert and 
Ernest, from the castle of Altenburg by Kunz von 
Kauf ungen ; another, the storming of the castle by the 
Poles in 1015. For you may well imagine a lord of 
the Marks held no idle office, and the lives of many 
margraves and of many thousands of men were sacri- 
ficed to preserve the empire and the Saxon civilization. 

Of the original buildings antedating the Albrechts- 
burg, not much is left. The Burgbrilcke, over which 
we drove, dates from the thirteenth century as does 
the cathedral — in course of renovation and restoration 
when we were there. To preserve the scanty linea- 
ments of such old tombstones as were not already ef- 

209 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

faced, they have all been removed from the cathedral 
tloor, and a new stone floor has been laid. The spires 
of the west front, destroyed by lightning in the six- 
teenth century, are being replaced according to their 
original design. The masses of scaffolding obscuring 
front and spires, made the structure look so much 
more like a modern American skyscraper in course of 
erection than a thirteenth century cathedral, that Mater 
promptly took a photograph of it. 

We found the statues, altarpieces and the like, in the 
choir and in some of the chapels, undisturbed; espe- 
cially noteworthy is the galilee chapel which closes the 
main west portal and contains, besides a bronze of 
Frederick the Warlike, four fine brasses attributed to 
Hermann Vischer or Peter Vischer. The carvings of 
the cathedral portal, preserved from the elements by 
the erection of this chapel, are correspondingly inter- 
esting. The cathedral adjoins the main Burg (castle) 
and projects into the bailey. 

From 1 710 to 1864 the Albrechtsburg was used as 
the royal porcelain factory ; ten years later it was reno- 
vated and put into its present condition. 

A curious story is told of the discovery of the proc- 
ess for making the famous Meissen china. It seems 
that at the beginning of the eighteenth century many 
alchemists were still busily searching for the philoso- 
pher's stone. Just what this precious article was sup- 
posed to effect is hard to determine; probably every- 
thing, and not least, the making of gold. The direct 
search for a means to manufacture gold was wide- 
spread, and the inverse process of getting gold into 
solution and then precipitating it again, was known 
end tried in the course of these investigations. A 
certain chemist or alchemist in Berlin (Bottger or 
Botticher, by name) was aware of this trick, and one 

210 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

fine day he laid a wager that he could make gold. Of 
course he prepared his gold solution beforehand and 
easily won his wager. 

The result of this wonderful experiment, noised 
abroad, reached the ears of the king of Prussia. He 
thought Bottger far too valuable a man to be at large 
and sent agents to find him. Bottger, warned by 
friends, sought safety in flight. But August the 
Strong of Saxony, nothing loth to have a goldmaker 
himself, had the border patroled by cavalry; and sure 
enough, our luckless alchemist, hurrying toward a 
fancied haven in Saxony, was straightway captured. 
Escorted to Meissen, he was placed in a room still 
shown to the public, and politely but firmly informed 
that here he must abide until gold was forthcoming. 
A spooky time for both town and castle, when winter 
winds howled around the old Albrechtsburg while the 
alchemist, 'mid strange bottles and retorts in his eerie 
chamber, plied "black magic" far into the night by the 
lurid glow of oven or forge! It was a bad time for 
the alchemist, however, for his magic was not "good 
magic" and the frenzied effort of years gave no re- 
sults ; finally, in desperation, he used the white clay of 
the neighboring countryside, and produced a fine 
glazed china dish. Whether this procured his release 
I cannot say ; but, at all events, the poor man had taken 
to drinking heavily and drank himself to death shortly 
afterward. 

By the irony of fate he left to Meissen, in this very 
porcelain, a heritage of gold still unexhausted. 

It is interesting to visit the Royal Porcelain Works 
down in the town, and have the marvels of firing and 
glazing shown you — how the clay shrinks a third in 
firing and how the black stencilled figures come out 
the beautiful blue of the old Zzviebebnuster (onion 

211 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

pattern) ; how the fine hand painting of the other pat- 
terns is appHed and how the carefully modeled little 
figures are made in sections, afterward assembled. 
These things are fascinating, especially to the ladies, 
and a lucky man is he who can get them away from 
the factory without their having discovered the 
salesroom connected with it. The men would probably 
prefer to have an unfired plate as a souvenir; but they 
may save themselves the trouble of trying to acquire 
one, for the good Saxons are still jealous of their 
secret of turning clay into gold, and any suggestion of 
such a purchase is met with looks of deep suspicion 
and a hurried movement of the guide to the next room. 
Jt is here the Royal Meissen (or Royal Dresden) china 
is manufactured — that with the crossed-swords mark 
on the back. Despite all secrecy, several close imita- 
tions of this first true "China ware" in Europe were 
manufactured in different parts of Germany ; for years 
there was a so-called "Meissen" china factory at 
Hochst, but its product was not known or sold as 
Royal Dresden ware. Though this, like some other 
factories, is now shut down, you may still buy the 
famous blue Meissen pattern without the authentic 
trademark. 

We arrived from Leipsic about one o'clock and it 
is after four-thirty as we drive over the big bridge 
across the Elbe and wave a last adieu to staunch old 
Meissen. Thank God, you and the other Marks stood 
so firm and true for Saxony and the empire, and 
turned the rush of the eastern tribes back upon itself. 
Long may you stand, and may never an Anglo-Saxon 
visit you but to gaze at your old gray walls with rever- 
ence, and thank his stars you saved him from being 
Cossack, Turk, or Tartar, or the Lord knows what. 

The progress of civilization has continued westward 

212 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

since those Markgraf days, until now the fierce Orien- 
tal has been overlapped on his eastern frontier. No 
bulwarks are raised against him there, no fortressed 
Marks; the open hand of friendship is outstretched. 
Let us hope it will be for the best. 

Henry the Fowler, to whom we all owe so much, is 
buried in the abbey church at Quedlinburg, north of the 
Harz mountains, only thirty miles east of Bad Harz- 
burg. Quedlinburg, a residence of the Saxon emper- 
ors, is a quaint town with many medieval houses, an 
old Rathaus and a Schloss (castle). It was once a 
Hanseatic town and the Rathaus contains a wooden 
cage, the prison, for more than a year, of Count Albert 
of Regenstein who had disregarded municipal privi- 
leges. 

Finkenherd Place near the Schlossberg is supposed 
to be the spot where Henry the Fowler was urged by 
a deputation of princes to become king of Germany. 
Near the Finkenherd is the municipal museum, dis- 
playing, among other attractions, many instruments of 
torture. Klopstock, and Carl Ritter the famous geog- 
rapher, were born in Quedlinburg. Of course the 
place has a Roland ; so has Halberstadt, another quaint 
old town — not ten miles northwest, which boasts also 
two ancient churches and much of that old half-timber 
architecture we are always eager to see. 

On the slope of the mountains about nine miles fur- 
ther, if you come from the direction of Harzburg, lies 
Ballenstadt, seat of the dukes of Ballenstadt-Ascan- 
ien (the modern Anhalt). Ruins of their other old 
castle of Ascania lie near the modern town of Aschers- 
leben. Albert th^ Bear, a duke of this line who died 
at Ballenstadt in 1 1 70, was Henry the Lion's greatest 
contemporary among German princes. He became 
Markgraf of Brandenburg upon the extinction of the 

213 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

ruling line and was the first great Markgraf there. 
Without belittling the work of those older margraves 
who lived and died in the defense of the borders, we 
can say that this Albert first put things to rights in 
Brandenburg, just as Henry the Fowler did in Saxony 
and in the empire. Under Albert, Brandenburg be- 
came an electorate; consequently he had a vote in the 
election of the German kaisers. 

The other electors (Kurfiirsten) were six in num- 
ber; three ecclesiastical — the archbishops of Mayence, 
Cologne and Treves; and three secular — the duke of 
Saxony, the count of the Palatinate and the king of 
Bohemia. After the Thirty Years' War, Bavaria, a 
temporary member during the war, was added per- 
manently; and in 1692, Hanover was added as the 
ninth and last electorate. The imperial throne was 
hereditary only insomuch as a desirable son was gen- 
erally elected to succeed his father. 

Bernhard of Ascania, son of Albert the Bear, was 
the duke who received the duchy and electorate of 
Saxony when it was taken from Henry the Lion, and 
his family held it until it passed to the margraves of 
Meissen. 

Blankenburg and Wernigerode, the Gegensteine, the 
Teufelsmauer (Devil's Wall), the ruined ancestral 
castle of Anhalt, and Regenstein cliff with the rock-cut 
foundations of a castle built by Henry the Fowler in 
919, all lie in this region. 

At the expense of one more day we could have made 
the circuit of these highly interesting places,* either 
returning to Harzburg or else striking through the 
mountains further east. Pater had an important en- 
gagement and so they were not visited, but I trust 



*Lauder's 'Tjegends of the Harz" ref ers to many of these. 

214 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

many of my readers may have the pleasure of explor- 
ing them. 

Merseburg, where Henry the Fowler defeated the 
Hungarians, is nine miles due south of Halle. It was 
a favorite residence of Henry's as well as of his son, 
Emperor Otto I (Otto the Great), and was the scene 
of many imperial diets. The town is mentioned as 
early as the ninth century, and has a noteworthy me- 
dieval cathedral; among its interesting monuments is 
a brass of Rudolph of Swabia, an anti-kaiser who was 
killed in battle by Henry IV — the weak but impetu- 
ous Henry, famous for his excommunication. 

Unluckily, we missed Merseburg as we had missed 
these Harz towns. We had underestimated Germany 
when planning this trip, and so had determined to 
steal every day we could for our tour in England ; we 
enjoyed this, to be sure, but much regretted the places 
skipped in Germany, where we should, now, like to 
spend about twice the time we devoted to England. 

Another lost spot, so far as this trip is concerned, 
was the Moritzburg — a hunting lodge or castle of the 
Saxon kings, built by Elector Moritz in 1 541 ; it is 
about ten miles east of Meissen and somewhat nearer 
Dresden. Some years ago I visited this pretty place, 
which is situated on an island in a little lake sur- 
rounded by wooded hills. The simple, vaulted in- 
terior is rather fine and contains a magnificent collec- 
tion of antlers. Near by is a great game preserve, 
notable for wild boars, and a visit there at feeding time 
is one of the popular attractions. 

From Meissen to Dresden, along the Elbe, is a run 
of 15 miles. The road was dusty, but afforded many 
pretty views of the river and of its hills, crowned by 
fine villas as well as occasional coffee gardens patron- 
ized by Dresdeners. We drove slowly on accovnt of 

215 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

the traffic. Indeed, all morning we had passed plenty 
of "Warnung" signs for " Kraftfahrzeuge" along the 
route ; and it generally turned out well for us that we 
heeded these, owing to steep grades and sharp turns. 

In Dresden, as in Leipzig, we were much amused by 
the barber signs : for, in place of the striped pole so 
common in the United States, a German barber ad- 
vertises his calling by a brass dish or plate ; sometimes 
only one, sometimes four or five — ^presumably accord- 
ing to the number of chairs or assistants. Reaching 
the Altstadt, we were surprised to find the twelfth cen- 
tury Augustus Briicke torn down to make way for a 
wider structure, with larger spans, which will better 
accommodate the increased traffic and cause less ob- 
struction to boats on the Elbe. As it will require years 
to complete this work, a temporary bridge has been 
erected alongside, whose huge wooden trusses spoil the 
panorama of the city; probably not since Marshal 
Davout blew up part of the bridge in 1813 has the river 
view been so disturbed. 

It is beyond the province of this book to describe 
beautiful Dresden — surpassed, perhaps, only by Paris 
and Rome among Continental cities; indeed, its fine 
site, handsome and orderly architectural appearance, 
and priceless collections, are too well known to call for 
description here. To August the Strong (August II) 
we owe the Zwinger, the general layout of the city, 
and its conversion into an art center; August III, his 
successor, erected the Briihl Terrace and — by his pur- 
chase of part of the Modena Gallery, of the Sistine 
Madonna, and of many Dutch and Flemish master- 
pieces — raised the Dresden galleries to a par with the 
finest in the world. 

We stayed at the Hotel Bellevue, delightfully lo- 
cated on the river bank in the heart of the city. As 

216 




A PAVILION OF THE ZWINGER. (P. 21 6 ) 




CHAIN STEAMER ON THE ELBE. (P. 2 1 7.) 

BEAUTIFUL DRESDEN. 



TO DRESDEN VIA MEISSEN 

our visit to Dresden was made only to fulfill certain 
social obligations, many leisure hours were spent 
strolling beside the river — either in the hotel garden 
or on the Briihl Terrace — or idling in our sitting-room 
where we could watch the chain-steamers picking up 
the great chain from the river bottom as they pulled 
themselves, and their strings of barges, upstream. It 
takes skill to get a long tow between the half-demol- 
ished piers of the old Augustus Briicke, and we began 
to realize the necessity for destroying even this old and 
cherished landmark, in the interests of commerce. The 
amount of freight that goes down the Elbe is enor- 
mous, and explains Hamburg's record of 19,000 in- 
land vessels in a year. Going down stream, barges 
are propelled by the swift current alone; a solitary 
helmsman leaning against the huge tiller and a dog to 
bark at passing vessels, complete the necessary crew. 

Across the river, opposite our hotel, is one of the 
city's numerous swimming baths. All day long, a 
succession of Dresdeners in bright red togs dived into 
the racing stream and swam with the current down to 
the lower landing stage. And all day long a little 
flatboat ferry carried people from the Altstadt to the 
baths; not Charon himself could be busier than this 
ferryman, who divided his time between struggling 
v/ith his pole to keep from being carried downstream, 
and swearing volubly at barges that got in his way. 

Dresden lies only 25 or 30 miles from the border of 
the Austrian empire, and any one who has not seen the 
so-called Saxon Switzerland should certainly take the 
run up the Elbe through Pilnitz, Lohmen, Hohenstein 
and Schandau to this charming, mountain country at 
the border. Up there is Konigstein, an old fortress 
crowning a sheer cliff some 800 feet above the Elbe, 
with a well over 500 feet deep ; until modern artillery 

217 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

was perfected it was considered impregnable, so in 
time of war the Saxon royal treasure was stored here 
for safe-keeping. Opposite Konigstein is the Lilien- 
stein mountain, at the foot of which Frederick the 
Great, with his Prussians, surrounded a Saxon army of 
14,000 men and starved them into submission. 

Our dolcc far nicntc had to be paid for, on Sunday 
night, in another of those important councils of war. 
Each night we spent some time carefully going over 
our prospective route; but this was one of the arduous 
meetings like that in Brunswick, where a general plan 
for a good part of the run was chosen. 

We should have liked to go southwest through Bam- 
berg. Wiirzburg and Rothenburg-on-the-Tauber ; 
thence along the Neckar, or even across the Black 
Forest. Again, it looked tempting to cross the Ar- 
dennes, going into France. But preconceived ideas and 
prearranged dates tied us down to a middle course, 
so it was decided to strike almost due west, paralleling 
the end of our eastward journey about 35 miles fur- 
ther south. From Eisenach we could then veer south- 
west through Frankfort, striking the Rhine at Mainz 
or Bingen. Even "grandfather's mill," said to have 
been one of the first power silk-mills in the country, 
had to go by the board, as did the old castle where 
Pater's uncle labored early and late, trying to keep 
order in the difficult affairs of that much-talked-of 
Prince of Reuss. 



21S 



CHAPTER X. 

WEIMAR — VIA CHEMNITZ, GERA AND. 
JENA. 

JUNE 29TH 137 MILES. 

ON Monday morning our journey was resumed. 
Necessary purchases delayed our departure 
till after ten-thirty, but we managed to reach 
Chemnitz, forty-five miles away, in ample time for 
lunch. Leaving Dresden via Annen and Chemnitzer 
Strassen and crossing the Weisseritz at Plauen, we 
found the road pretty well worn as far as Deuben. 
At Hainsberg, Bobbie kept to the right and followed 
the Weisseritz along a wooded hillside to the charm- 
ingly situated town of Tharandt, with its ruined castle 
crowning rocky heights. He kept heading southwest, 
uphill and down, through the forest of Tharandt, find- 
ing here the usual beautiful roads. Tharandt has a 
famous school of forestry. 

The chaussee now entered Freiberg, an old mining 
town famous for a fine, late Gothic cathedral with a 
remarkable sculptured south porch (Goldene Pforte), 
a remnant of the original twelfth century church. 
Kunz von Kaufungen was beheaded on the Ober 
(upper) Markt. The castle of Freudenstein, now used 
as a government storehouse, lies in the northern part 
of the town. 

A glimpse of the Freiberg of 1545 is handed down 
to us in the story of weaver Richter, living in the 
Weingasse, who cursed his dilatory son, saying, 

219 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

"Stand there till you never move again." The curse 
look effect, and the poor lad stayed for years in one 
spot till he wore, into the floor, footprints that were 
shown to the curious long after. Any attempt to move 
him resulted in driving him almost frantic; but much 
prayer and general exorcism finally enabled the clergy 
to put him to bed, where he died some years later — a 
fearful example to bad children as well as to those who 
curse in haste and repent at leisure. 

Numerous hills were encountered as far as the man- 
ufacturing town of Oederan, but they afforded fine 
scenery. A little beyond this town the Augustusburg 
may be seen on a hilltop, and soon the road descends 
into the pretty valley of the Floha, following it a good 
part of the way to Chemnitz, a manufacturing town of 
245,000 inhabitants, and the third city of Saxony. 
What we feared most, near a large factory town, was 
poor going ; nor did we escape it. Pater decided that, 
beyond Chemnitz, we would give up the southern route 
(via Lichtenstein — Zwickau), because of many hills, 
in favor of one through Penig and Altenburg. Near 
Penig on the Mulde, Kunz von Kaufungen's castle 
once stood, and it was from the castle at Altenburg 
that Princes Albert and Ernest were stolen by Kunz 
one midnight in July of 1455. with the connivance of 
a traitorous steward, in the absence of the elector. 

Kunz was an unattached general of some ability. 
Once, while hired by the Nurembergers, he defeated 
Elector Albert of Brandenburg, one of the fiercest 
fighters of the day. Later, he fought for Elector Fried- 
rich against his brother (William of Meissen) and 
the Bohemians. The outcome of this was a quarrel 
that culminated in the Prinscnrauh, an event as famous 
as the murder of England's princes in the Tower. 
Kunz, it seems, did not fare very well in his campaign ; 

220 





THE SAXON SWITZERLAND. {P. 2 1 7.) 



CHEMNITZ, GERA, JENA, WEIMAR 

was captured by the Bohemians, and had to pay ran- 
som. Elector Frederick,* perhaps unjustly, refused to 
reimburse him; so, in revenge, he stole Frederick's 
sons — the progenitors of the Albertine and Ernestine 
lines of Saxony — a bold, cleverly executed proceeding. 
Kunz divided his party into two sections with a prince 
apiece ; but, alas ! luck was against him ; some restless 
sleeper awoke, alarm bells, immediately rung in Alten- 
burg, soon tolled through all Thuringia, and both 
princes were rescued. Kunz — what outrageous fo: - 
lune! — was taken in the woods, next day, by charcoal 
burners; and the other party, after hiding three days, 
iinally surrendered its prince in exchange for safe-con- 
duct to the border. 

Altenburg is the birthplace (pardon the anti-climax) 
of Skat — considered, by many, the most intricate and 
scientific game of cards. It can be compared to no 
game of ours except, perhaps, bridge whist; in this 
there are but two forms of play — trumps and no 
trumps ; in Skat there are seven forms and three ways 
of selecting these. Luck is practically eliminated, for 
the worst hand may win points, and the best may be 
defeated. 

By advice of the hotel keeper at Chemnitz we took 
neither route we had in mind. Instead, we drove via 
Hohenstein, Glauchau, Meerane, Schmolln and Ronne- 
burg, to Gera. The roads were rather poor, except 
through occasional forests, nor did we avoid the hills 
altogether, so we might better have taken the Alten- 
burg route as far as Ronneburg; but I must say we 
were amply repaid by the beautiful scenery. Almost 
every town along the way had its Schloss; Glauchau 
had two. 



*0f the Wettin family, to which the father of Edward VII 
of England belonged. 

221 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Near Meerane we left Saxony and entered the duchy 
of Saxe-Altenburg. The Altenburger peasant dress is 
an old Wendish costume often seen in Leipzig and in 
Dresden, where it is fashion among the rich to have 
nursemaids wear this quaint garb. In Hamburg, 
nursemaids often wear the Vierland costume of the 
near-by peasantry. 

But our picture of the past is not confined to dress, 
alone. A huge, strangely shaped boulder near the 
town of Altenburg has given the peasants much con- 
cern; they call it "the devil's hat." All Druid stones 
and odd rock formations were invested with super- 
natural attributes, as their names — devil's wall, devil's 
rock, devil's mill, devil's dancing place, etc. — will indi- 
cate. An awful manifestation, worse than the Wild 
Huntsman, is the Muthusheer which roars through 
Thuringia — yes, through all Westphalia — on a stormy 
night, especially around Christmas time. The terrible 
wraiths of the ancient dead are there, from Wotan's 
time down ; the accursed and unshriven ; witches, 
devil's imps, misbegotten monsters, and howling 
hounds of hell. The onl}^ redeeming feature is that 
"faithful Eckhart" sometimes goes in front to warn 
the belated traveler, or ameliorate the blight likely to 
fall on those who meet this terrible array, face to face. 
Peasants, when they hear its fearsome approach, close 
doors and windows tight ; for should but a part of that 
terrible army sweep through the house, a hellhound 
is left behind — a gaunt, gra}^ beast that, while it eats 
nothing, stays a full year and brings all manner of bad 
luck. 

Nobody would care to risk having such a visitor; 
rather, almost, would one employ a werewolf on the 
farm : that is, a man who secretly changes to a raven- 
ing wolf and devours cattle and children. The dread- 

222 



CHEMNITZ, GERA, JENA, V/EIMAR 

ful succession of witchcraft trials the world over was, 
in Germany, sometimes interrupted by catching a 
werewolf. As late as 1610 two men were executed in 
Liittich as confessed werewolves. 

What a life ! with the imminent possibility that your 
neighbors would report you as witch or magician ; with 
the prospect that the devil would substitute Wechsel- 
bdlge (changelings) for your children; with spooks, 
Wild Huntsmen and Muthusheere making roads and 
fields unsafe, and then "in the forest dark" to hear 
"the werewolf bark !" Indeed, they tell us that one 
noble actually employed, as his steward, a man who 
had been dead two years. Yet the Saxons lived 
cheerfully on in spite of this; they were in no 
hurry to "shuffle ofif this mortal coil," if one may judge 
by the experience of Pastor Oest. He was making the 
rounds of a newly acquired parish when he came upon 
an old, white-haired man crying bitterly. "My father 
beat me," was the answer to sympathetic inquiries. 
At the door of the house, there stood an even older 
man, in a great temper. The astonished pastor at- 
tempted to soothe this old gentleman, but became 
speechless in consequence of his exclamation, "Bah! 
the wretched boy let my father fall." And, sure 
enough, indoors by the stove, sat a shriveled little body 
lustily bewailing the carelessness of his grandson. 

Not far beyond Ronneburg the road crosses the bor- 
der of the principality of Ruess-Gera-Schleiz ; this be- 
longs to the younger Reuss line, so it had no special 
interest for Pater. Five miles of uninteresting coun- 
try brought us to Gera, its capital, a town on the White 
Elster. On Hainsberg lies the palace of Osterstein, the 
prince's residence. Leaving Gera, our attention was 
engrossed by the unusual sight of an automobile ahead 
of us. It had gone by while we paused to make sure 

223 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

of our route, and we were under the necessity of swal- 
lowing the dust from a slower-moving vehicle which 
we could not pass, in this trailing cloud, without con- 
siderable danger ; fortunately the other car soon struck 
ofif on a side road. Though we had been almost en- 
tirely free from such an experience, owing to the scar- 
city of automobiles in the open country, this, while it 
lasted, served to make us realize the unusual good 
nature of the peasantry under the aggravating dust 
clouds we often inflicted upon them. In England, 
where touring is general, we learned to truly appre- 
ciate the pleasure of motoring through the less fre- 
quented realm of the Kaiser. 

Some pretty, wooded country led via Roda and 
Lobeda to the university town of Jena. About five 
miles west of Gera the road had crossed another border 
into an exclave of the duchy of Saxe-Altenburg, and 
just before reaching the castle of Lobeda it left Alten- 
burg soil again and entered the grand duchy of Saxe- 
Weimar-Eisenach. Thus we crossed four borders of 
this cluster of German duchies in one day, and were 
due to cross four more on the morrow. 

About two miles south of Lobeda is Rothenstein, 
where Thalmann von Lunderstedt, a knight at feud 
with Erfurt, escaped his enemies by spurring his horse 
over the cliff into the Saale — a feat few would care to 
imitate. 

A few miles further south lies Orlamiinde, whose 
castle ruins are haunted by that famous ghost, the 
White Lady. Otto, count of Orlamiinde, died in the 
early fourteenth century, leaving a. beautiful widow 
(said to have been a former countess of Meran) and 
two children. It was well known that the young coun- 
tess hoped to marry again, and Albert the Handsome, 
burgrave of Nuremberg, remarked privately, that he 

224 



CHEMNITZ, GERA, JENA, WEIMAR 

would not be averse to espousing the widow "were it 
not for four eyes," This reached the ears of the coun- 
tess who, beheving the "four eyes" referred to her 
children, had the poor little things murdered by a hard- 
hearted retainer. The burgrave, however, had refer- 
ence to the eyes of his parents and didn't marry her 
after all. Her hapless spirit also wanders in the im- 
perial castles and palaces, where its appearance fore- 
tells a death in the family; for this is, indeed, the fa- 
mous White Lady of the Hohenzollerns. Either the 
Nuremberger's remark was intended to mislead the 
countess, or her claim upon him was greater than ap- 
pears on the surface ; why else should her ghost follow 
his family when they became electors of Brandenburg 
and even kings of Prussia. 

The hills around Jena were once tenanted by dwarfs ; 
harmless people, who occasionally borrowed household 
utensils for their festivities, but always returned them. 
In exchange for special favors of this nature they 
brought lasting good fortune by a return gift — that is, 
the good fortune lasted as long as their present was 
kept in the family. During hard times, however, they 
often pilfered fields and orchards, a proceeding made 
easy by invisibility. It is no hard matter to put an 
end to this, once you've decided who the culprits are. 
You simply procure some willow wands, go into your 
field at midnight and swish around, horizontally, at the 
height of your waist. Thus you knock off the dwarfs' 
magic caps and the terrified little fellows, now made 
visible, are easily seized and held as hostages until im- 
munity is promised. 

Jena, first mentioned in the ninth century, is beau- 
tifully situated on the river Saale at its junction with 
ihe Leutra and several smaller streams. The univer- 
sity, established in 1548, is very famous, and every 

225 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

quarter of the town is reminiscent of the great minds of 
German literature. Many houses bear memorial tab- 
lets to the illustrious men who taught or studied here : 
Arndt, Fichte, Oken, Schiller, Goethe, and others. In 
the old Schloss, a former residence of Saxe-Jena's 
dukes, Goethe wrote "Hermann and Dorothea." 
There are many inviting promenades throughout the 
town; in the garden of the observatory is a bust of 
Schiller, placed where he composed "Wallenstein." 
Across the Saale is the "Tanne Inn" where Goethe 
once resided, and a path along the stream, is pointed 
out as the place where — no doubt on those mystical 
moonlight nights when the fog was rising from the 
water — he conceived the weird "Erlking." 

We passed some of the university buildings, then al- 
most deserted. Scoffy took pride in pointing out to 
us placards advertising the famous Lichtenhainer 
beer. In one of the town's narrowest streets we 
halted to ask the way of a group of bewhiskered and 
bespectacled gentlemen who had all the earmarks of 
the German professor. They informed us we were 
headed wrong and advised, with evident amusement, 
that we should turn around — knowing quite well that 
the width of the street would not permit this. But 
Bobbie did not propose to let foreigners get a rise out 
of him. His sharp eyes had noticed an open driveway 
where an attendant was just preparing to close the 
gates ; driving on a few yards further, he suddenly re- 
versed and, after backing almost upon the toes of the 
astonished servant, steered proudly into the street 
again as the iron gates clanged behind us. This ma- 
noeuvre drew a round of applause from the group of 
spectators. It was but one of many occasions when 
we observed the ready wit of Germans, and their frank 
recognition of wit in others ; it was also proof that the 

226 



CHEMNITZ, GERA, JENA, WEIMAR 

much-caricatured Herr Professor is quite human after 
all and not indifferent to a Uttle good-natured fun. 

From Jena, with its quiet streets and lanes rich m 
association with some of Germany's great minds, we 
drove to Weimar, the home of epoch-making German 
literature. A magnificent shady road skirting the 
edge of a wooded ravine led upwards out of Jena. 
Driving west along the chaussee, we could see, look- 
ing down the first crossroad to the right, the plain 
upon which the principal engagement of Napoleon's 
battle of Jena was fought. 

Somewhere in this part of the country— meniory 
fails me as to the exact time and place, but certainly 
between Dresden and Frankfort— we met a regular, 
old-fashioned, German postilion. Rather, to be exact, 
it was the driving successor to the riding postilion, 
dating from the time when postboys no longer be- 
strode the horses, but when mail-coach and post chaise 
were driven from the box. Not the uniformed, im- 
perial mail-carrier, with the customary yellow mail- 
wagon, but the old-time chap of a hundred or more 
years past. "As large as life and twice as natural," 
so Scoffy enthusiastically exclaimed; "just like the old 
prints you see in books — beaver, horn, bells on his 
horses, all complete, even to the sprig of green in his 
hat." How he got here and what he was, we could 
not fathom; perhaps some local post and parcel de- 
livery claimed him for its own. 

Way down the road we could hear him cracking his 
whip with a sound like a pistol shot. To make the 
scene complete, there lacked but his horn's musical 
"Muss i' denn, muss i' denn zum Stadtele 'naus, Stad- 
tele 'naus, und du mein Schatz bleibst hier?" or some 
such air, and a girl's answering "Juche !" or yodel, 
■^ from the near field or woodland — which so often 

227 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

greeted us as we sped by. For these gay fellows played 
an important part in the picturesque life of their day; 
they carried news and gossip from village to village, 
delivered mail and parcels, carried messages and per- 
formed errands, or transported travelers in their post 
chaise, then the only means of rapid transit except 
horseback riding. Many a pretty girl kept eager 
watch on the village street for the approach of this 
jolly, teasing young mercury, who brought her good 
cheer in the form of a message or, possibly, in his 
own person. 

Scoffy tells of driving through remote mountain 
districts of Bavaria, in what was there called an "extra 
post," with just such a postilion. This man knew 
everybody he passed ; had a word for the near-by and 
a bugle call for those at a distance. He played a num- 
ber of folksongs; then (his repertoire exhausted) pro- 
duced leaflets of sheet music, stuck them into a clip of 
his horn and continued playing. The peasants thought 
Scoffy must be a grand seigneur to be traveling "extra 
post," and all doffed their hats and said "Good morn- 
ing, Excellency." 

A world of romance clings to the postilion and his 
post chaise ; much is bright and pleasant ; more, thrill- 
ing and adventurous ; while not a little is sad. To this 
last, belongs that sweet old song: 

"Seht ihr drei Rosse vor dem Wagen, und diesen jun- 

gen Postilion? 
Von weitem horet man ihn klagen, und seines Glock- 

leins dumpfen Ton." 

The road to Weimar was the best we had traversed 
this day, always excepting roads through forests and 
forestry districts, which are invariably excellent. It 
was still broad daylight when we arrived and we could 

228 



CHEMNITZ, GERA. JENA, WEIMAR 

easily have pushed on to Erfurt. Bobbie felt rather 
relieved, I wager, to have reached a stopping place, 
for it is no slight task to hold the wheel over 137 miles 
of hilly and largely indifferent road. The maps called 
for 1 3 1. 4 miles. Our experience showed that the in- 
crease of actual road-work over book mileage is a 
negligible quantity — about four per cent. — provided 
you exclude large cities where you spend a day or two 
and do much driving. 

This was our longest run to date, but we did not av- 
erage much over fifteen miles an hour, which shows 
how easily a scorcher could make his 200 miles a day. 
However, he would neither see as much as we did, nor 
keep as clear of collisions with the authorities and, per- 
haps, of collision with vehicles. Of course, if a man 
started at 6 a. m., and drove till dusk (about nine 
o'clock) he might cover his 200 miles and additional 
sightseeing comfortably; I should pity the chauffeur 
in such a case, as well as the man likely to forego sleep 
to plan the route. Moreover, meals at odd hours and 
the care of the car would cause inconvenience and 
friction. Eight or nine hours on the road is sufficient, 
even with a break in the journey, if you wish to appre- 
ciate travel and have it remain a pleasure. A hundred 
miles a day is a good average, a hundred and twenty 
a high one; if you hire a car you will surely have to 
pay extra for averaging over a hundred. With a pri- 
vate car an occasional forced run is sometimes neces- 
sary to carry out a program, and is likely to occur 
vv'here a long, uninteresting stretch of country leads 
from one center of interest to another. We were not 
obliged to make any in Germany. 

Weimar, the old seat of the grand dukes of Saxe- 
Welmar, virtually witnessed the birth of German liter- 
ature. Before Goethe, one might say, all was archaic 

229 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

or at best mediocre — especially prose. The reason 
Germany was so backward in this respect is not far to 
seek; the gradual decay of the Holy Roman Empire, 
the consequent civil wars and, eventually, the century 
of religious wars due to the Reformation, wasted the 
country's material resources and upset the intellectual 
tenor of the people to such an extent that arts and 
sciences stagnated. 

The clever Grand Duchess Anna Amalia determined 
to surround her son, young Grand Duke Carl August, 
with the greatest minds of the age. The grand duke, 
appreciating her motive, also became a liberal, unfail- 
ing friend and patron of the arts, as did his successors. 
Goethe, Schiller, Herder and Wieland lived and 
worked here; the local court theatre was one of the 
first to present works of Wagner, and Liszt — a fav- 
orite of Grand Duke Carl Alexander — turned out 
many talented pupils who spread Weimar's fame 
broadcast. 

The charm of the little court attracted foreigners 
as well; there was quite an English colony. Henry 
Robinson, a close friend of Lamb and Wordsworth, 
sojourned here; Samuel Naylor visited here; Thack- 
eray's friend Lewes — afterward Goethe's biographer — 
was drawn here by Thackeray, who had spent some of 
the happiest days of his early life in this delightful 
town. In later years, particularly since the establish- 
ment of the Goethe and Schiller archives and of the 
Goethe National Museum, scholars of all nations have 
traveled to this home of genius. Bayard Taylor stud- 
ied here while working at his translation of Faust, 
and lectured on American literature. Indeed, the 
avidity with which Germans have translated and read 
the works of Irving, Cooper, Shakespeare, Dickens, 
Scott, Thackeray, and many other American and Eng- 

230 



CHEMNITZ, GERA, JENA, WEIMAR 

lish writers, may doubtless be credited largely to the 
influence of Weimar ; their familiarity with our litera- 
ture has always been a surprise to me who, since child- 
hood days, have possessed editions in German of the 
Leatherstocking Tales and other works, all published 
before my birth. 

The works of Scott are said to have exerted con- 
siderable influence on German romantic novelists; on 
the other hand, some claim to see the influence of 
Goethe in Poe's "House of Usher" and other tales. 

Aside from these matters, Weimar is a charming 
town. We stopped at the Russischer Hof, pleasantly 
situated upon a parklike street on the site of the old 
wall and moat. At this season there was no difficulty 
in procuring the best rooms; among them, the one 
especially devoted to royalty — with a little dais where 
Mater held court with satisfaction and success. Early 
next morning we made a circuit of the town, viewing 
most of the celebrated buildings ; it really would have 
paid to spend a full day in Weimar, in order to go 
through these and to visit the grand-ducal burial vault 
where Goethe and Schiller lie side by side with their 
royal patrons. There are many interesting dwellings 
ranging from that of the philosopher Nietsche all the 
way back to the Cranachs'. The altarpiece in the 
Stadtkirche is one of the elder Cranach's best works ; 
connected with modern Weimar's artistic fame are 
Lenbach, Bocklin and Hildebrand. 

We curtailed our stay as much as possible, so the 
Youth was obliged to cut short his search for "good" 
postal cards in a way he declared was most cruel. Ten 
o'clock found us again traveling over fine roads 
through most delightful scenery towards Erfurt. 



231 



CHAPTER XL 
EISENACH— VIA ERFURT AND GOTHA. 

JUNE 3OTH 47 MILES. 

IT is interesting to note that our path led from the 
very place where German literature first recov- 
ered from its depression, directly into a region 
replete with memories of one cause of this depression 
— Luther and the Reformation. 

A run of some thirteen miles brought us to Erfurt's 
Leipziger Strasse; then, after some meandering and 
crossing of streams, we passed through the Fisch- 
markt, which has an old Roland column, a modern but 
interesting Gothic Rathaus, and several Renaissance 
patrician dwellings of the sixteenth century. Markt 
Strasse leads westward to the Friedrich Wilhelms 
Platz, the town's principal market square. 

Here a surprise awaited us. Emerging on the vast, 
paved square we saw, rising high against the sky from 
the eminence upon which they stand, the cathedral and 
the church of St. Severus — a most remarkable group. 
Between them an enormous flight of steps (bigger than 
that of the Briihl Terrace in Dresden) leads up to the 
terrace on the hilltop. St. Severus, on the right, is 
notable for a group of three quaint spires; and the 
cathedral, its lofty Gothic choir facing the square, 
looked as impressive, I am tempted to say, as any 
church in the world. The unusually tall choir win- 
dows, themselves, lend an impression of great height, 
that finest attribute of ecclesiastical Gothic. When to 

233 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

this you add the effect of the substructure — a series 
of high, pointed arches springing from the hill to form 
the platform upon which the choir stands — ^you can 
easily imagine that the result is very striking ; though 
lacking tower or spire worthy the name, the cathedral 
seems to soar far up into the heavens, dominating the 
town by its imposing architecture. 

Bobbie drove around the hill, expecting that the 
cathedral could be entered from the west ; but this en- 
trance was barred, and beyond getting a glimpse of the 
citadel on Petersberg, nothing was accomplished. So 
we made a virtue of necessity and mounted the great 
eastern stairway. Near the top are the remains of a 
tiny stone stair which once led to a sort of pulpit jut- 
ting out from the terrace ; used, no doubt, in days gone 
by, when addressing the multitude gathered upon the 
stairway. At the head of the flight, near the cathedral, 
stood a large and gruesomely realistic crucifix, and 
above the small northeastern portal of the cathedral, 
some bleached bones hung swinging in the wind. 
Though we plied the sacristan with perfectly fluent 
German we acquired no information regarding those 
bones; Scoff y suggested it must be a story that 
wouldn't bear repeating. 

Baedeker will tell of the things we saw inside; and 
the guide will point out the rest, should you chance to 
go there. What interested us most was a curious 
bronze candelabrum of the eleventh century, and a 
monument in the south wall depicting Count von Glei- 
chen and his two wives. The sacristan was reduced 
to a state of confusion by the query whether the Count 
had both wives at the same time*. Perhaps many 



*As a matter of fact, he did ; the second wife being a Moslem 
princess who saved his life in one of the crusades, and whom he 
married hy special dispensation of the pope. 

234 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

people make the same remark, and no doubt it rankles, 
for the sacristan seems devoted to every stone of his 
great church. It may have been in punishment for 
this that he declared there was nothing to see in the 
cloisters. We made our way around the apse alone and 
found the cloisters too good to have missed; an iron 
gate closed them off, but it was quite easy to step over 
the stone balustrade. Within this quiet little enclosure 
of Romanesque and Gothic arches, the spirit of other 
times hovered around us; strange thoughts woke with 
the echo of our footsteps — 

Thoughts "that the soul of youth engage 

Ere fancy has been quelled; 
Old legends of the monkish page. 
Traditions of the saint and sage. 
Tales that have the rime of age 

And chronicles of eld." 

Looking up at the square of turquoise sky we could 
see one of the transept towers. A little doorway in 
the corner disclosed winding stairs, and the Youth was 
for climbing the 260 steps to see the great bell, Maria 
Gloriosa, which tips the beam at thirteen tons ; but we 
managed to recover him by his coat-tails and proceeded 
on our way. On the terrace, schoolboys were sketch- 
ing the fine view of the town, under supervision of a 
teacher. A very inattentive class ! for strangers were 
about, and the whispered word "Amerikaner" showed 
how conspicuous the stranger — fondly believing he 
looks just like other folk — really is. 

Neither of these ancient Catholic churches advances 
any special claim to Martin Luther, but on the south 
side of the square they overlook, stands the Gasthaus 
"zur Lilie" where Luther stopped as a Junker, and not 
far away is the Augustine monastery (now the Mar- 

235 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

tin's-Stift Orphan Asylum) where you may see the 
cell he occupied for three years. 

We had avoided historical references until Pater 
suddenly said, "Children, who submitted in Erfurt to 
Frederick Barbarossa?" Seeing the blank looks that 
followed this unexpected onslaught, he continued, 
"Why, Henry the Lion, of course. You should re- 
member those things." 

Though we did not arrive in time for the regular 
market, the stoneware market proved interesting ; such 
an array of pots, crocks, pipkins, jars, steins, and 
casseroles, we had never seen. The wares, mostly 
spread out on the ground, covered quite some space, 
and we were thankful Bobbie had not driven right 
Into them when turning the corner, else the proverbial 
bull in the china shop would have been robbed of his 
laurels. 

In 1672, Erfurt was in a state of some excitement 
about a witchcraft trial. It seems a young woman 
had, by brewing a concoction of herbs with a liberal 
seasoning of incantation, compelled her lover to return 
to her from a neighboring village — much against his 
will, and with such alacrity that he complained of su- 
pernatural agency. The girl confessed, and was par- 
doned upon naming the old witch who had instructed 
her in the proceeding. There were various ways of 
compelling a man's affections or of seeing one's future 
husband, as the girls do now at Hallowe'en. These 
were practiced on St. Andrew's or St. Thomas' night, 
on Christmas eve or New Year's eve. One way to 
accomplish the former was to set the table for two, 
at midnight, taking care to have no forks, and sticking 
the knives into a loaf of bread. By repeating a spe- 
cially worded invitation, the intended husband would 
be compelled to appear in person and occupy a seat 

236 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

at table, for a moment. He always left some sou- 
venir of the occasion, which the girl had to keep con- 
cealed. A woman in Saalfeld tried it, and the man 
who appeared left his dagger behind ; this she hid in a 
clothes-chest, where he found it two years after their 
marriage. She foolishly related the whole story, 
whereupon he cried in fury, "So you are the wench 
who caused me that night of horror," and stabbed her 
to the heart. 

The road to Eisenach was fine, the scenery splendid. 
From the high ridge where Gamstedt and Tiittleben 
he, one sees to the south, across the valley, the wooded 
hills of the great Thuringian forest stretching away 
into blue distance. The ancient forests of Germany 
are, nearly all, still extensively wooded and, conse- 
quently, not disappointing like the old English for- 
ests. 

We were now well into Thuringia, which may be 
loosely designated as extending from the Harz south- 
ward to the present Bavarian border, and from the 
present kingdom of Saxony westward, about to the 
river Fulda. According to one tradition the Thur- 
ingians, a Suevian tribe, drove the Saxons out and 
settled here ; according to another, the Saxons were a 
part of the army of Alexander the Great, which, after 
aimless wanderings, took to sea, sailed up the Elbe, 
and seized part of Thuringia. Historically, the Saxons 
conquered all northern Thuringia in 530, pushing 
south of the Harz to within ten miles of the road we 
were traveling; and Thuringia soon fell under the 
sway of Saxon civilization and was absorbed by the 
great Saxon duchy. 

In "Die Ahnen" (a series of eight novels), Gustav 
Freytag, historian and novelist, traces the fortunes of 
a Thuringian family from the days of Roman invasion 

237 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

to the eighteenth century. The scene of "Ingo," the 
interesting first novel, is laid in Coburg ; unfortunately, 
"Ingraban," the second, was a bit slow, and discour- 
aged further translation. Thereafter the scene is laid 
in the very locality we were traversing, and the author 
speaks of three border castles, of Erfurt (a fortified 
town as early as 741 ), of the monastery at Fulda, and 
of many other interesting things and exciting events. 
Almost contemporaneous with "Ingo" is the scene of 
Felix Dahn's "Captive of the Roman Eagles" (entitled 
"Bissula" in German), a thrilling story of the defeat 
of the Romans by the Alemanni on the north shore of 
Lake Constance, afterward part of the duchy of Swa- 
bia. Dahn's "Felicitas," a story of Salzburg (the 
Roman Juvavum), will also bear reading. Read these! 
O, Americans! — read all you can, and then brush up 
3^our German and read still more; for if you claim 
England as fatherland, surely this is grandfatherland. 

Approaching Tiittleben we passed the Gasthaus "zu 
den Drei Gleichen," and these three castle-crowned 
hills of Freytag's could be distinguished south of us. 
One, doubtless the duke of Coburg-Gotha's castle 
Wachsenburg (on its 1360 foot summit), was quite 
distinct; the others were more or less vague in outline, 
but there was little chance of our missing them since 
Scoffy pointed out at least five strangely shaped sum- 
mits which might pass for ruined castles. The temp- 
tation to draw nearer and investigate was almost irre- 
sistible. Had we been able to realize our heart's de- 
sire, each day's tour would have been one continual 
detour. 

There is so much scenic, romantic, and historical 
interest in the broad German land; for example, only 
twenty-seven miles south of Weimar is Blankenburg, 
dominated by the ruins of Greifenstein — the ancestral 

238 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

castle of Giinther of Schwarzburg, who was elected 
king of Germany in opposition to Charles IV. Giin- 
ther, like luckless Rudolph of Swabia, was one of the 
anti-kaisers elected in times of stress ; he spent a year 
of precarious kaiserdom which ended in his death — • 
some say, by poison. Greifenstein overlooks the 
Schwarza valley, said to rival the Eisenach region as 
the most beautiful spot in the Thuringian forest. 

Siebleben, just outside Gotha, has a Schloss which 
we descried in the distance, and also boasts the coun- 
try home of the late Gustav Freytag, We did not see 
this place, at least not wittingly, although we passed a 
large Gut (estate) which might have been his. 

In Gotha we made only a postcard stop. Schloss 
Friedenstein, visible from the town, was erected on 
ruins of castle Grimmenstein (destroyed 1567 in the 
Grumbach rebellion) and in recent years was occupied 
by the duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha — the late duke of 
Edinburgh; it is a plain structure, set in a fair sized 
park, not sufficiently attractive to draw us from our 
course. 

"In the Olden Time," a novel by Margaret Roberts, 
describes the terrible Peasants' War of 1524-25, an- 
other rebellion engendered by the spiritual unrest of 
the times. It introduces the famous Lutheran duke, 
Ulrich of Wiirtemberg, whose story you may read in 
'"Lichtenstein," a book adapted from the German of 
Wilhelm Hauff. "Klytia," by Prof. Hausrath 
C George Taylor) portrays the fortunes of men com- 
pelled to change religions twice or thrice in a lifetime. 

Leaving Gotha, the car climbed the heights and ran 
above the valley of the Horsel, again affording a 
splendid view of the Thiiringer Wald to the south. 
Most prominent, were the 3000 foot Inselberg and, 
almost in front of it. the chateau Tenneberg on a sum- 

239 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

mit some 1400 feet high. Near Eisenach we passed 
directly below Horselberg, familiar through the legend 
and opera of Tannhauser as containing the grotto of 
Venus into which she enticed the ill-starred knight and 
minnesinger. Horselberg* has long been known as a 
favorite haunt of the devil's; hell-fire has burst from 
its sides, and the shrieks of the damned have echoed 
down the valley. In fact, a queen of England, having 
learned her lord was in purgatory here, is said to have 
built a chapel in the valley for the good of his soul. 
A town sprang up around it which she named Satan- 
stead, and which is the very Sattelstedt we passed on 
our way. 

Eisenach was reached in time for lunch at the Rau- 
tenkranz, our stopping place, which has a pleasing lo- 
cation on the Markt. 

An indication of Germany's efforts to keep abreast 
of the times in business enterprise, was the boy on a 
bicycle who picked up our trail, as we entered town, 
and followed us to our destination; here he offered 
to guide our chauffeur to a garage, and when the 
portier announced that he could accommodate us, the 
boy, still refusing to be shooed away, hung around 
in a vain effort to sell us Oel und Benzin (oil and 
gasoline). 

The large square, paved in granite blocks with diag- 
onal cross walks of flags, was, like all market places, 
an object of unfailing interest. Only a few vendors 
remained at the time of our arrival, but early next 
morning there was the usual large gathering. The 
fountain on this square was presided over, not by Ro- 



*The odd name Hor-seel (Hear the souls) is due to weird 
cries issuing from the cavern in this mountain; these sounds 
are now attributed to such questionable causes as the wind! 
or subterranean waters! 

240 




THE FRIENDLY THURINGIAN HILLS CROWD IN ALMOST TO THE MARKET 
PLACE." (P. 241.1 




WAITING FUR THE WARTBURG S DRAWBRIDGE Tu BE LOWERED. 

EISENACH. 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

land, but by St. George resplendent in a coat of gold 
leaf. The recently restored Markt-Kirche, opposite 
the hotel, did not appear specially old nor yet obtru- 
sively new. Before it, stands a statue of Johann Se- 
bastian Bach, who was born in Eisenach. Almost ad- 
joining the market place to the south is Luther Place, 
with the Luther house where young Martin resided 
with Frau Cotta while attending school. 

The friendly Thuringian hills crowd in almost to 
the market place, the nearer ones studded with pretty 
villas ; on those higher and more distant you may see, 
to the southeast, the Burschenschafts Denkmal in mem- 
ory of students who fell in the Franco-Prussian war 
and, farther away, southwest, the walls and towers 
of the Wartburg. 

The Wartburg is a name to conjure with. Prob- 
ably few places are of more vital interest to the Prot- 
estant world; or even to the Roman Catholic world, 
which is not so narrow-minded as to refuse interest in 
its great dissenter. In fact, among the sightseers at 
our first visit, was a Catholic priest — a far from indif- 
ferent observer. 

In the Wartburg, Luther remained in friendly de- 
tention, having been kidnapped with a great show of 
force by Elector Frederick the Wise, lest enemies over- 
whelm him. Here, while working almost a year at 
his translation of the Bible, he was known as "Junker 
Georg;" here, he is said to have thrown his inkwell 
at the devil — casting upon the wall a stain which zeal- 
ous tourists have chipped from the plaster, bit by bit, 
until not only the original stain is gone, but also the 
large soot-spot behind the tile stove. Sad to say, his 
desk and bed have also been chipped to such an extent 
that the authorities have been obliged to cover the ac- 
cessible edges with metal. 

241 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Apart from these associations, the Wartburg pre- 
sents a most picturesque group of buildings, and, like 
most German castles, commands fine views in all direc- 
tions. The keen eyes of Ludwig der Springer — who 
escaped from Giebichenstein, near Halle, by a daring 
jump into the Saale — first discerned its advantages, 
and he exclaimed, "Warte, Berg! du sollst mir eine 
Burg werden!" — literally, "J^st wait, mountain, I'll 
make a castle of you," so the castle was called Wart- 
burg, 

From Ludwig down, the landgraves of Thuringia 
were men of wit, daring and enterprise, and many of 
their sayings and doings have been immortalized in the 
Wartburg's frescoes. One, for example, unarmed, 
encountered a lion which had escaped into the court- 
yard; before his retainers could hurry to the rescue, 
the landgrave, by his unflinching gaze, cowed the beast 
and led it back to its cage. Another, when the em- 
peror complained that the Wartburg (some say the 
Naumburg) had no extra surrounding wall, remarked, 
"If your Majesty will have patience, I'll build you a 
wall in two days," and forthwith sent messengers 
abroad to summon his vassals. Next day, he led the 
emperor up on the ramparts and pointed out a con- 
tinuous wall of armed men surrounding the castle. 
The emperor was constrained to admit that his host 
had made good his word. An interesting story con- 
cerns another Landgraf who, to the detriment of his 
people, was rather weak-natured and the tool of his 
advisers. Lost in the forest one time, he passed the 
night in a blacksmith's hut at Ruhla. The smith and 
his helpers, unconscious of their guest's rank, deplored 
the weakness of the landgrave ; with every blow upon 
the iron he welded, the smith chanted, "Landgrave, 
grow hard! Landgrave, grow hard as this iron!" 

242 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

The landgrave did; he suddenly displayed a strong 
will, on reaching home, and dismissed his evil coun- 
selors. 

The town, too, has its legends : such as that of the 
bewitched maiden who was cursed by her mother for 
obstinacy and who, to this day, haunts a cave in the 
mountainside waiting for release ; or that of the knight 
Herman von Treffurt, a local Don Juan, who rode 
over Hellerstein cliff one dark night and owed his 
escape from death to calling on the Virgin. He be- 
came a pious monk in Eisenach's monastery — did not 
even care to be buried with the other good monks, and 
so was laid away in a lonely corner between the church 
and the town wall. 

In fact, the legends of town and castle would fill a 
book; but I cannot refrain from relating one more, 
which really concerns the castle of Kynast in the 
mountains of southwestern Silesia. Princess Kuni- 
gunde was sole heiress to this fine castle and its de- 
pendencies; spoiled beyond remedy in her youth, she 
lost her head entirely upon reaching marriageable age, 
and though many worthy suitors aspired to her hand 
none pleased her. She devised a very cruel expedient 
to get rid of them: promising to marry the one who 
could ride the round of the castle, on its walls — 
an almost impossible feat, for the walls were narrow 
and the abyss outside was calculated to make both 
horse and rider flinch at a critical moment. Many a 
good fellow perished in this foolhardy test of courage, 
and it became a well-founded opinion that the princess 
would remain single. One day a new suitor ap- 
peared — a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, handsome, 
and a remarkable horseman. The princess lost her 
heart to him at once and vainly tried to dissuade him 
from the fearful ride. But he made the attempt and 

243 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

succeeded. As the princess, radiant with deHght, 
stood waiting for him to claim his reward she saw him 
wave his hand disdainfully and, putting spur to his 
horse, ride across the drawbridge and out into the 
forest. The poor princess never smiled again. The 
explanation nearest to hand was that he was the 
avenging spirit of one of the dead; but eventually it 
transpired that the horseman was no other than the 
landgrave of Thuringia, who had trained his favorite 
charger to canter fearlessly upon just such a narrow 
way in order to put an end to the pernicious situation. 
Although the Wartburg draws visitors primarily 
as the one-time haven of Junker Georg, one carries 
away an indelible impression of its own charming self. 
It is famous as the finest example of a nobleman's 
residence in the Romanesque style. The old draw- 
bridge (lowered to admit the visitor), the interesting 
Riistsaal with its fine old armor, the quaint forecourt 
with its timbered Ritterhaus, the inner court with its 
ancient well and Romanesque "landgrave-house," the 
Bergfried, the "guest-house" — all give an exception- 
ally vivid and accurate picture of medieval days. The 
room where Luther lived, the chapel where he 
preached, the apartment where Holy Elizabeth dwelt, 
the hall of the famous Sdngerstreit (contest of min- 
strels) in which Wolfram von Eschenbach vanquished 
Tannhauser,* impart an atmosphere of faith, piety, 
poetry and romance, such as is rarely found in one 
spot. The great upper hall of the Landgrafenhaus is 
doubtless familiar to many through "Tannhauser's" 
stage setting, but the view from watchtower or ram- 
parts, with its comprehensive sweep over Thuringia's 
hills, is the real setting of life's great drama played 

*Heiiirich von Ofterding«n. 

244 



ERFURT, GOTHA, EISENACH 

here through the ages — and, in many ways, it forms 
one's finest memory of Eisenach. 

The Kaiser is fond of the Wartburg. In autumn 
he often goes there for the Auerhahnjagd as soon as 
the open season for these famous cock pheasants has 
begun. The hall of the minstrels is his reception 
room, and the vaulted apartment of St. Elizabeth — 
handsomely decorated with mosaics and furnished, as 
closely as existing records permit, in the fashion of her 
day — is his sitting-room or parlor. His reverence for 
this historic castle is shown by the crucifix of olive- 
wood in the chapel, a tribute which he brought from 
the Holy Land. 

St. Elizabeth's miracle is probably known to most 
readers through the poem by William Wentworth 
Story ; perhaps not so many are familiar with another 
"Saint of Dragon's Dale," whose story, interwoven 
with scenes from the Wartburg and the Drachen- 
schlucht, is delightfully told in a book by William 
Stearns Davis. 

Our faithful car had carried us up the fine Wart- 
burg road to the "jumping off place" where all vehicles 
and even the sure-footed donkeys are obliged to halt. 
On the afternoon of our second day in Eisenach (July 
first) we motored through the mountains past Ruhla 
towards Friedrichsroda, where the scenery was fine 
but the roads, though excellent, were unpleasantly 
steep and winding. 

That forenoon we rambled through the Annathal's 
pretty walks; went through the Drachenschlucht, 
which recalls, though it does not equal, the Aarschlucht 
in Switzerland; and enjoyed a distant view of the 
Wartburg from the place called Zur Hohen Sonne — a 
vista through a lane cut in the woods, which recalls the 
glimpse of the Capitol at Washington, D. C, as seen 
from the Soldiers' Home. The auto being held at 

245 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Paters disposal, we drove to these places by carriage ; 
it was amusing to note how disgusted we were with 
this mode of travel which, to us — spoiled by our swift 
and comfortable automobile — appeared slow, dusty, 
hot and tiresome. 

We alighted at one end of the Annathal (a valley) 
and our jehu said he would meet us at the other end. 
*'And," he added with a knowing wink, "you won't get 
lost. I'll call you." Having walked about as far as 
directed, we heard, from the hill above, most marvelous 
sounds, which bore a faint resemblance to "M}'- Coun- 
try, 'tis of Thee," "Yankee Doodle," and other airs, 
played upon a bugle. It at once occurred to us that 
this must be our driver calling for his passengers, so 
we scrambled up a steep path and found him, very red 
in the face from his exertions, but beaming with pleas- 
ure at Scoffy's diplomatic praise. Another coachman 
was waiting there with a carriage; his party 
preceded us through the valley, but those unfor- 
tunates, not suspecting that gay postilion blood still 
runs in the veins of German drivers, had passed the 
music by. Anxious inquiries confirmed this fact; so, 
with a wild shout of "My party is lost!" their jehu 
plunged down the path, at breakneck speed, in search 
of his missing fares. 



246 



CHAPTER XIL 
EISENACH TO FRANKFORT. 

JULY 2ND 113 MILES. 

WE lunched early and left Eisenach about one 
o'clock, having decided to make Frankfort 
in one stretch. Roads and scenery proved all 
that could be desired. Proceeding via Vacha and 
Hiinfeld to Fulda, thence through Neuhof, Schliich- 
tern, Salmiinster, Gelnhausen and Hanau, we found 
mountainous country and the usual succession of 
pretty villages and interesting towns. 

The beginning of our route, through Fiirtha and 
Marksuhl, was plentifully sprinkled with danger sig- 
nals on the map and along the road — quite necessary, 
owing to many sharp curves. Climbing the hills out 
of Marksuhl the road passes close to Hautsee, a lake 
containing a floating island. On a certain day of the 
year part of this lake is said to grow blood-red. Ages 
ago, at a kirmess in the neighboring village of Donges, 
two beautiful girls appeared and joined in the danc- 
ing; the village youths were vastly attracted to the 
well-dressed strangers, and one playfully stole their 
gloves. When the dance ended, the girls were almost 
distracted, looking for their missing gloves, but had to 
depart without these. Following the fair ones to 
Hautsee, the youth saw them disappear into the water 
which, soon after, showed a big red spot — the poor 
nixies, betrayed by the lack of gloves, had paid the 
penalty of their visit to the upper world. 

247 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

We were now motoring through a part of old 
Hessen (Hesse) whose name will recall both bitter and 
sweet events of our Revolutionary days. At one time 
there were margraves ruling both Thuringia and 
Hesse. Since then, Hesse has shrunk considerably; 
upper Hesse lies like a little island in southwestern 
Prussia near the border, and Rhein Hessen (with 
Mayence and Darmstadt) lies just below. Frankfort 
and Hanau lie between the two, in the strip of Prussia 
that divides them. Not all Hessian rulers were like 
the grand duke who sent his poor peasants to America, 
in order to fill his treasury at the expense of George 
IH; several of them used to go round incognito to 
learn the needs of the people.. Landgrave Philip ques- 
tioned a poor woman one day, and found she was tak- 
mg yarn to market to raise money for taxes. He 
gave her a gulden to cover the taxes. "May God 
reward you. Junker," said she, "I wish the money lay 
burning hot on the landgrave's heart." He let her go 
her way and, turning to his followers, said with a 
laugh: "What a remarkable transaction! I bought 
that evil wish with my own money." 

Another time, the landgrave of Hesse was impris- 
oned by the kaiser while imperial troops overran his 
land and reduced all his fortresses save Ziegenhain, 
which was defended to the last ditch by Heinz von 
Liider. The landgrave was released upon promising 
to hang up the loyal Heinz in chains on the castle wall. 
In the presence of the assembled knights and of the 
imperial messenger, Heinz was hung to the wall, for 
a moment, with a gold chain that was immediately 
presented to him in token of faithful service. 

Numerous wayside shrines apprised us of a stretch 
of Catholic country. A church on the summit of a 
steep, conical hill, provoked some comment concern- 

248 



EISENACH TO FRANKFORT 

ing the zeal of worshipers willing to make the climb. 
The choice of such inconvenient sites dates from the 
time of Boniface (the English priest Winfrid, some- 
times called the "Apostle of Germany") who replaced 
many a pagan temple so situated, by a house of God. 
Some of his original chapels and churchyards are 
maintained throughout Hesse and Westphalia, and 
peasants in the locality still demand to be carried up 
ihese precipitous paths to their last resting place. 

Crossing the Werra and Ulster rivers we reached 
Hiinfeld and followed the Haune almost to Fulda. 
This is a considerable town; founded as an abbey by 
Boniface in 744, it grew to be the seat of the primate of 
all abbeys, and finally a bishopric. It contains a 
Schloss, a convent, a monastery, a Catholic seminary, 
and many churches, and is the modern German center 
of Catholicism. St. Boniface is buried in the cathedral 
crypt. Through his valuable work in Westphalia he 
rose to be archbishop of Mainz, but came to an un- 
timely end at the hands of the Frisians. They proved 
as hard to convert as the Saxons were to subdue. 
Radbot, count of Friesland, had agreed to be bap- 
tized — already had one foot in the water — when he 
suddenly asked would he find his ancestors in heaven. 
Being informed that, as heathen, they had presumably 
gone to hell, he promptly withdrew his foot, saying, 
"Then to hell I go. Fd rather suffer the tortures of 
hell with them than enjoy the splendor of heaven 
alone." 

Fulda lies on the river of that name, a wonderful 
stream, whose waters pause in their flow while a ruler 
of Hesse is dying. Through Neuhof and Flieden 
the road rises and falls frequently, but warning danger 
marks are on our map; at Schliichtern we enter the 
valley of the Kinzig, following this as far as Hanau. 

249 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Steinau has a strange spring round which no grass 
will grow. Here the lords of Steinau, Eberstein, 
Brandau, and others, plotted against the life of Abbot 
Berold of Fulda. After the murder, the knights and 
their retainers, to the number of thirty, were caught 
looting a near-by church and were promptly beheaded 
or broken on the wheel ; since then, knights of Steinau 
have had to display three wheels and three blades on 
their coat of arms. There is still a castle at Steinau; 
and approaching Salmiinster we see, on the hills across 
the valley, the extensive ruins of Stolzenburg. 

Near Wachtersbach we observed a large cloud of 
dust ahead, and at once raised the cry "the enemy is 
coming" — for thus we dubbed approaching automo- 
biles, owing to the danger involved in passing not only 
the auto but vehicles hidden in its dusty trail. The 
"enemy" was slower than usual in meeting us, but 
finally we discovered that the dust was raised by a 
large flock of geese driven homeward by the usual 
barefoot girl — their flapping wings as effective in ob- 
scuring the landscape as four big tires and a puffing 
exhaust. 

The next town of note was old Gelnhausen; on an 
island in the Kinzig are ruins of Barbarossa's palace, 
built in honor of beautiful Gela, where he first met 
her. Unfortunately, it was destroyed by the Swedes 
in the Thirty Years' War. Bobbie made no stop, 
however, till Hanau, where we were glad to pause for 
refreshment. Close by is the spot where Prince 
Wrede with forty thousand Bavarians sought vainly 
to intercept Napoleon retreating with eighty thousand 
men from his defeat at Leipzig; Prince Wrede was 
killed in this engagement and a legend tells how, on 
certain moonlight nights, his ghost appears on the 
bridge over the Kinzig and strives to save thousands 

250 



EISENACH TO FRANKFORT 

of his foes from drowning in the river's dark waters. 
Perhaps the tale is famihar to many through Arthur 
Rapp's poem. 

Hanau was founded in the sixteenth century by 
Protestant exiles from the Netherlands, and some of 
their old trades, such as diamond-cutting and working 
in gold and silverware, still flourish here. It was the 
birthplace of the three brothers Grimm. Jacob and 
William need no introduction, unless to such as have 
forgotten their childhood ; Ludwig, the youngest, was 
a painter and etcher of considerable talent. It may 
perhaps be less generally known that Jacob was author 
of several more serious works. No ! that is all wrong, 
for what is more serious than a well told fairy tale; 
let us rather say, of several technical works. His 
"Deutsche Grammatik" was the first comparative Ger- 
manic philology, and the law it set forth regarding 
relative correspondence of consonants is still called 
"Grimm's law." 

On the stretch from Eisenach to Hanau we again 
passed through many odd little villages with streets 
so crooked and narrow that we never knew where we 
should emerge, nor, in fact, whether we should ever 
emerge at all. Any of them would have furnished the 
proper background for one of Grimm's fairy tales and, 
were forest or field needed, it was close at hand, as 
were foresters, peasants, black cats, old crones bent 
beneath their load of fagots, and all the rest of the 
accessories. Many a time, at sight of a tiny, timbered 
house with rundles blinking in its casements. Scoffy 
murmured the witch's words in "Hansel and Gretel," 

"Knusper, knusper, knauschen. Wer knuspert an 
mein' Hauschen?" 
This defies adequate translation but, to those who 
know German fairylore, speaks volumes. 

^51 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Oh, those beautiful German fields ! with cornflowers 
and poppies growing among the wheat, and fringing 
the roadside where the unfenced fields meet it. And 
oh! the scent of newmown hay wafted to us on the 
summer wind with the cheery greeting of barefoot 
peasant girls who wave a hand and call, *'Juche" or 
"Grusz Gott." 

But for this we had been sorry to have come in hay- 
ing time; the wagons so frequently blocked our way 
and it was difficult to make a driver hear us. Empty 
wagons were the worst to pass, as their rattling 
drowned our auto-horn. Lacking a bugle we should 
have been much annoyed, for every day we met 
wagons whose drivers were sound asleep. The horses 
usually had "horse sense" enough to turn out, and it 
was comical to see the horrified expression on the driv- 
ers' faces as they awoke to hear our trumpet-call and 
see us rush by ; many of them looked as if they thought 
the last trump had sounded. Fortunately, German 
horses seem quite phlegmatic; I recall only two occa- 
sions on which they made any real attempt at shying. 

In all parts of Germany you are likely to find the 
road lined, both sides, with cherry trees. While they 
afiford a grateful shade they are not, as some travelers 
seem to imagine, a philanthropic institution to feed the 
hungry. The trees usually belong to the township 
and are rented to some poor peasant whose bread and 
butter depends on the crop. Naturally he is liable to 
feel seriously concerned at any depredations. Cher- 
ries were ripe at the time of our visit, and the men 
picking them looked very much worried as the car 
whizzed past the foot of a ladder. Many a bag of the 
luscious fruit did we buy for a few pfennigs. 

The river Nidda, which enters the Main at Frank- 
fort, owes its name to an amusing incident that befell 

252 



EISENACH TO FRANKFORT 

a countess of Hesse. She vowed to build a castle at 
the first place where her favorite donkey paused. The 
stubborn beast stopped at a swampy spot near the 
river, and neither whip nor spur could urge it on. 
"Nit da, nit da!" ("not there") she cried, but in the 
end she had to build her castle there; the town that 
sprang up around it was called Nitda, and so was the 
river. In Barbarossa's time, Berthold, Count Nidda, 
took to plundering town and country to such an extent 
that the emperor was notified ; the count had for a long 
time covered his tracks by shoeing his horses back- 
ward; but the depredations were at length traced to 
him, and the emperor, being in the neighborhood, at 
once invested the castle with a large force. Despite 
the odds Berthold would not surrender, but his coun- 
tess secretly opened negotiations to be allowed to de- 
part in peace. She finally effected an arrangement 
whereby she was permitted to leave with what she 
could carry — and as much more as she could pack upon 
a mule — provided she took only her most valued pos- 
sessions, and did not attempt to have the count bestride 
the mule. She set her three little sons upon the mule 
and, flinging the count over her shoulders like a sack, 
managed to totter to safety with him. 

Nidda lies twelve miles northwest of Gelnhausen. 
Some cellars of the famous castle remain, and at one 
time the townsfolk instituted a vigorous search for 
treasure supposed to have been buried there. They did 
find a precious hoard of the count's, but it consisted 
entirely of horseshoes designed for shoeing a horse 
backwards. 

The story of Nidda recalls the siege of Weinsberg 
in 1 140, where Conrad HI offered the women safe- 
conduct with such goods as they could carry. They 
emerged from the city gate bearing their husbands 

253 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

and sweethearts and, though his officers objected, Con- 
rad grinned in appreciation and said, "A king's word 
once given must not be broken," 

Those old rulers were magnificent men — men of 
practical insight and decision, and not a few were 
scholars of ability in their day; Barbarossa was the 
most heroic figure of the Middle Ages, as was Charle- 
magne of earlier, darker days. Their lives at best 
were one long battle, for that great empire had to be 
ruled with an iron hand. They dispensed a peculiar, 
picturesque justice, usually very fair — judged even by 
later standards — and pregnant with ready wit. But 
unscrupulous nobles and jealous relations often put 
them in the wrong. Otto III executed a count whom 
his jealous queen unjustly accused of having made im- 
proper advances. When the truth of the matter de- 
veloped he promptly offered his own head in forfeit. 
But the court of nobles granted four stays of the sen- 
tence, for each of which the emperor gave the count's 
widow a castle as indemnity, until the guilty queen 
could be tried in due form and executed, thus avenging 
the death. Otto, though the last of his line, never 
married again. 

Otto I (the Great) wore a red beard by which he 
was wont to swear, and it often got him into difficul- 
ties that needed skillful adjusting. On some occa- 
sions, though, he refused to back down. Such was 
the case when a woman of Lombardy stopped him — on 
his way to suppress an insurrection — to demand the 
punishment of a man who had wronged her. "By 
my beard, I'll see justice done you when I return," 
quoth Otto. "Master, you'll forget," said the woman. 
"No, by this church, I swear it." When the kaiser 
returned, the woman, who had meantime fallen in love 
with the man, begged frantically for his life. "By my 

254 




THE FINE TOWER OF FRANKFORT S CATHEDRAL, WHICH WE OWE TO FRANZ 
VON INGELHEIM. (P. 255.) 



EISENACH TO FRANKFORT 

beard, I swore to do you justice. — Let the man be 
executed !" cried the kaiser. 

At Seligenstadt, on the Main seven miles above 
Hanau, Emma and Eginhart were buried. Eginhart, 
a favorite scribe and biographer of Charlemagne's, 
secretly made love to the emperor's daughter, Imma 
(or Emma) ; during one of their meetings a fall of 
snow made detection imminent, so Emma carried her 
lover away on her back, that only a woman's foot- 
prints should be visible — a ruse witnessed by the em- 
peror. Meanwhile, Eginhart had asked for dismissal, 
alleging that his services were poorly requited; the 
emperor realized this, so he decided mercy would be 
the truest justice, forgave the transgressor and re- 
warded him with the gift of his daughter's hand and 
a rich dowry. So happy did this marriage prove that 
their home was called Seligenstadt.* Emma is said 
to have named the well-known Odenwald, which she 
frequently apostrophised as "O du Wald." 

Following the Main, which is joined by the Kinzig 
at Hanau, it was not long before we descried the fine 
tower of Frankfort's cathedral, which, thanks to Hans 
von Ingelheim, affords a most pleasing change from 
both square towers and sharp spires. 

Frank ford ! disclosed in the hour of direst need — 
Vv'hen the Franks and Charlemagne were fleeing from 
the victorious Saxons — ^by a doe that walked sedately 
through the river while panting and bleeding thou- 
sands watched, with eager eyes, this path to safety. 
Centuries after, a bridge was built — not without some 
difficulty. Did you ever notice the metal rooster on. 
the old bridge? Well, it was like this: a builder 
had agreed to finish the bridge by a certain day, but 



*Selig— blissful. 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

when, with only one night left, he still had two arches 
to construct, he gave up the job in despair. Then the 
devil approached him and offered to complete the 
bridge that night in exchange for the first living being 
to cross it. Agreed ! The bridge stood all finished 
next morning, but the crafty builder drove a rooster 
across. The devil, in fury at being gulled of a hu- 
man victim, tore the rooster in pieces and hurled these 
through the bridge with such force that two of the 
stone spans were broken. Nor was it ever possible 
to fill the gap ; like the hole in the cathedral at Goslar, 
it refused to be closed with masonry. So, after many 
futile attempts, it was bridged with wood. But there ! 
I must stop. 

Fain would I break my resolution not to expatiate 
upon the larger and more traveled towns in favor of 
this old capital of the East Frankish empire. But 
prudence says "No." Frankfort was not new to us 
and it is probably well known to most travelers — the 
others I commend to the good offices of Herr Bae- 
deker. We did not even revisit the famous Romer 
with its room of the electors and its Kaisersaal whose 
venerable walls echoed to the coronation feast of many 
a Holy Roman kaiser while the fountain on the square 
outside ran with the famed red and white wines of the 
country. They are a long time dead — these kaisers 
and their guests; I wonder will men know the spot 
when another four or five hundred years have passed, 
or will the records say, "Somewhere, in a town called 
Frankfort, those old emperors were crowned." 

This city is one of the great centers of Germany's 
motor industry and seems popular with motor tourists. 
We found a number of these — Germans as well as for- 
eigners — stopping at Frankfurter Hof, and they all 
marveled at our record of fine weather, fine roads, and 

256 



EISENACH TO FRANKFORT 

complete freedom from tire-trouble, or any other trou- 
ble. The fine open court of this hotel afforded an op- 
portunity, dear to the German's heart, of dining out- 
doors. One window in the dining-room has an enor- 
mous sheet of glass (over eight feet high and corre- 
spondingly wide J which, when pushed up out of the 
way, not only gives an outdoor appearance but pro- 
vides easy access to the terrace tables — very popular in 
fme weather. 

Ravenstein's maps are published in Frankfort; our 
maps reached but little beyond this point, so we were 
obliged to buy others and then hold a meeting to de- 
termine our route to Metz. 

Of course we devoted one evening to the famous 
Palm Garden. After wandering through the grate- 
ful coolness of the splendid palm house, we dined on 
the terrace and watched the gaily dressed crowds. 
Hundreds of incandescent lamps shed a soft light over 
the interesting scene, while the band played dreamy 
waltzes and bright two-steps. American selections 
were frequent and received a generous round of ap- 
plause ; as the strains of "The Stars and Stripes For- 
ever" rang out we thought of home and of the mor- 
row — "the glorious Fourth." 



«57 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FRANKFORT TO BINGEN: DOWN THE 
RHINE TO COBLENZ. 

July 4th — 82 miles. 

ON the morrow we resumed our journey. Ma- 
ter's foresight had provided tiny American- 
flag badges for each of us, and two eighteen- 
inch flags for the motor's lamp racks completed our 
festival decoration. Fully fifty people watched our de- 
parture, but did not crowd us in American fashion, 
remaining a reasonable distance away so that we had 
room to move; there was the usual quota of grocer 
and butcher boys, suggestive of delayed dinners, yet, 
3s a whole, it was a prosperous looking crowd com- 
pared with some in England, where the seediest, sor- 
riest looking groups one may imagine, gathered to 
speed us on our way. No doubt this was due to Eng- 
land's great "army of the unemployed" of which we 
heard so much. Mater regretted her inability to pho- 
tograph both sides of the street at once that she might 
"do full justice to the frankfurters," as Scoffy sug- 
gested. 

Bobbie took a short cut across country to Mainz 
(Mayence). The great bridge over the Rhine gives 
a fine view of this city and of its cathedral, a famous 
Romanesque church. Downstream a bit (where the 
railway bridge crosses) is the island Peters- Au, once 
containing the summer palace of Charlemagne's son, 
Louis the Pious, who died there in 840. The oldest 

259 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

name of Mainz is said to be of Celtic origin. Drusus 
established a camp here in lo or 15 B. C, and it became 
the seat of the governor of Germania Superior. Chris- 
tianity had already obtained a firm hold in the fourth 
century, and the city eventually became an archbish- 
opric and seat of the primate. The cathedral is spe- 
cially noted for old monimients; near the door of the 
Memorie and cloisters is one to Fastrada, Charle- 
magne's third wife, of whom an interesting legend is 
told. 

Outside the kaiser's door there hung a bell cord 
which those seeking justice might pull at any hour. 
One night, the bell rang repeatedly, and the cause was 
finally traced to a snake that glided slowly away. The 
kaiser followed till it had led him to its nest, occupied 
by an enormous lizard, which was at once dispatched. 
Next day the snake visited the kaiser and laid a splen- 
did jewel at his feet ; in the fullness of his love, his first 
thought was to have the jewel set and give it to Fas- 
trada. It was a magic jewel which caused the recipi- 
ent to exert a marvelous attraction upon the donor. 
Charles' love for the queen now passed all understand- 
ing, and when she died he was unconsolable and would 
not leave her body. Things came to such a pass that 
one of the bishops, suspecting a talisman, found hid- 
den in the queen's mouth this magic ring, which he 
quietly removed. The kaiser now lavished such affec- 
tion upon the bishop that he threw the ring into the 
pool at Aix, whereupon the city became a favorite im- 
perial residence. 

There being no road downstream, from Mainz, on 
the left s^de of the river, Bobbie went on to Bingen. 
Midway lay Nieder-Ingelheim, an insignificant village, 
the site of Charlemagne's palace. Little trace of the 
building remains beyond a small part of the church 

260 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

of St. Remiglus, once the chapel of the palace. We 
reached the Rhine at the upper end of its most inter- 
esting section. No steamer trip can compare with the 
intimate acquaintance gained by riding along its banks. 
Scoffy — the first time on record — ^begrudged a stop 
for lunch ; for the beautiful day and lovely scenery set 
our blood racing as we sighted "the vine-clad hills of 
Bingen — sweet Bingen on the Rhine." 

On the terrace of the Victoria Hotel, under the ar- 
bor there, a few rays of sunlight, filtering down, struck 
the golden wine sparkling in our glasses ; but, out yon- 
der its full strength glittered on the great golden river, 
stealing silently past. Bingen was gay with bunting; 
not for "the Fourth," but because of a great reunion 
of student corps. They were scheduled to gather at 
the base of the colossal "Germania" which loomed 
above the Riidesheimer vineyards across the water. 

Taking the bridge to Bingerbriick and making sev- 
eral sharp turns to cross a second bridge over the rail- 
way tracks, we started along the river on the direct 
road to Coblenz. Just opposite, rise the gray walls of 
ruined Ehrenfels, and on a rock in the middle of the 
Rhine, stands the famous Mouse Tower, the last ref- 
uge of cruel Bishop Hatto, said to have been devoured 
alive by thousands of mice that swam the stream in 
pursuit of him. This fate he drew upon himself by 
burning to death the famished peasants, who raided 
his barns and whom he likened to hungry, thievish 
mice. Southey's poem "God's Judgment On Hatto" 
gives a stirring description of the occurrence. 

A previous bishop of Mainz, also named Hatto, is 
said to have been guilty of rather treacherous acts. He 
was regent for Louis the Child, last of the Carlovin- 
gian line. In 905, while Adalbert of Badenberg (who 
slew the emperor's brother) was being fruitlessly be- 

^6 J 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

sieged by imperial forces, Hatto offered to act as medi- 
ator, and, by promising to see that Adalbert returned 
in safety to his castle, induced him to throw himself 
on the emperor's mercy. After starting for the im- 
perial camp Hatto complained he had had no break- 
fast, so the party returned to the castle for a meal. 
Adalbert was held prisoner and condemned to death 
for high treason, but when he accused Hatto of 
treachery, the bishop said, "I fulfilled my agreement 
when I took you safely back to your castle for break- 
fast." 

Conrad of Franconia, Louis' successor, was a bitter 
enemy of the Saxon duke, Henry (afterwards Henry 
the Fowler). Hatto planned a pitfall for Henry, invit- 
ing him to a banquet at which he was to be presented 
with a gold chain contrived to throttle its wearer. The 
secret leaked out by way of the goldsmith, so Henry 
sent Hatto word that, while he believed he was more 
stiff-necked than Adalbert, he thought best to decline 
the invitation. Some say Hatto died of chagrin, oth- 
ers that the devil bore him away into Mt. Etna. Kaiser 
Conrad, on his deathbed — realizing that only one man 
could save the empire — dispatched his brother Eber- 
hard to Henry with the royal insignia, and begged the 
princes to elect Henry king. 

Most archbishops of Mainz were of different stamp. 
Boniface, for example, or the worthy Willegis (A. D. 
1009), a wheelwright's son who, taunted with his 
lowly birth, promptly had his apartments decorated 
with painted wheels accompanied by the words, "Wil- 
legis, Willegis, remember what your origin is." Since 
then, the Mainz archbishop's coat of arms displays 
white wheels on a red ground. Ehrenfels was erected 
by the governor of the Rheingau, about 12 10, and 
later became a residence of the archbishops of Mainz. 

262 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

Was there ever another river like the Rhine ! Was 
there ever another small stretch of country boasting 
a wealth of romantic history interwoven with legend,* 
fairy tale, fiction and mythology, to equal this smiling 
valley from Bingen to Coblenz ! Many songs tell its 
story; poets of all nations sing its praises and recall 
its legends in their verse. We grew quite excited as 
we approached each point of interest, conning over 
as much of its story as we could recall. 

Tradition has it that Charlemagne, sojourning at 
his palace at Ingelheim, noticed that snow always 
melted first on the slopes of Riidesheimer hill. Infer- 
ring that this would be a fine place to plant the grape, 
he straightway ordered it done — thus laying, more 
than eleven hundred years ago, the foundation of this 
excellent vintage of world-wide fame. One charm- 
ing legend tells how, on a mild summer's night when 
moonbeams have built a bridge across the Rhine, a 
figure in royal purple may be seen gliding over to the 
opposite shore; it is Charlemagne, risen from his 
grave to bless the vines and breathe again the air 
heavy with their fragance. 

Soon castle Rheinstein towered above us. As its 
owner — Prince Henry of Prussia — kindly leaves it 
open to the public during his absence, we stopped for 
an inspection. Though of unknown origin it probably 
antedates the thirteenth century, since it is mentioned 
in 1279 and was said to have belonged to the era of 
robber barons who flourished for some time previous. 
By a zigzag path of eleven stories we climbed 260 feet 
above the river. A bench is placed at alternate levels 
for the weary; Pater grew weary at first sight of the 



*Guerber's "Legends of the Rhine" is doubtless already well 
known to most readers. 

263 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

climb and remained so, but we others went on and 
were charmed beyond measure. Rheinstein is a little 
gem and a marvel of ingenuity. How its builders ever 
managed to get so many different courtyards, terraces 
and buildings, with a solitary cliff as base, is a wonder. 
Of course, many of these are at different levels, and 
this has a good deal to do with it. Mater quite fell in 
love with the place and declared only a fear of incom- 
moding Prince Henry prevented her from buying it 
at once. Such dear little gardens, and terraces, and 
circular stairways, vaulted halls, and towers; such a 
wealth of old furnishings, old armor and curios ! 

Many windows give fine views, but the best view 
was obtained from the watchtower overhanging the 
Rhine. We ascended by a very narrow, arched, out- 
side stair — a process best described as climbing up the 
back of a flying buttress. One glance at the sheer drop 
to the river, and another up and down stream, con- 
veyed a good idea of the small chance travelers had of 
escaping those light-fingered, heavy-handed barons of 
long ago. 

A log-raft of astonishing dimensions was floating 
downstream; it was equipped with several masts, an 
elaborate steering apparatus and a house for shelter- 
ing its crew. 

We could see our Packard's yellow wheels beneath 
the trees at the roadside. Wisps of blue cigar smoke 
moving from place to place apprised us that Pater 
was growing restless, so we hastened to descend. 

Near the water's edge, not far beyond Rheinstein, 
stands the picturesque Clemens Capelle (chapel of St. 
Clement) founded they say, to save the souls of robber 
barons hanged by Rudolph of Hapsburg. These gen- 
teel thieves had by no means such an easy time as one 
might imagine; not infrequently they brought down a 

264 




" A LOG RAFT OF ASTONISHING DIMENSIONS." 
(P. 264.) 




THAT MOST QUAINT OF ISLA.\D CASTLES 
DIE PFALZ." (P. 271.) 

THE RHINE. 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

hornet's nest about their ears. Once the Rhenish 
towns banded together and burned down several objec- 
tionable castles. Reichenstein (Falkenburg) v/as one 
of these, but its owner soon had it rebuilt and resumed 
his favorite calling. Reichenstein, Sooneck, and Heim- 
burg were all destroyed by King Rudolph — their own- 
ers being slain, or hanged to the most convenient trees. 

Rudolph was the first Hapsburg to ascend the Ger- 
man throne. With occasional interruptions this house 
has continued to reign, outliving the Holy Roman Em- 
pire, which, come to a sad state of impotence and in- 
ertia, was finally wiped out by Napoleon Bonaparte. 

When the house of Hohenstaufen died out, many 
years of turmoil followed.* There were three claim- 
ants to the throne; none of them, apparently, able to 
obtain a definite hold on it. In this land without a 
ruler, no wonder every man looked out for himself 
rather than for law and order, seizing what property 
he could. Under these circumstances, no wonder 
knights and barons became "robber knights" and 
"robber barons" ; and it should not be too seriously 
held against them, considering the times, for in those 
days might made right. They were not thieves or rob- 
bers; rather, petty nobles run wild — confiscating what 
they could, just as their overlords were doing. 

Now it happened that Friedrich III, burgrave of 
Nuremberg and descendant of that Conrad who "read 
the riot act" to Henry the Lion, thought he saw, in 
his cousin Rudolph, a man who might bring both 
right and might into these sad German affairs. Since 
Barbarossa's day the Hohenzollerns had steadily 
grown in influence as burgraves of Nuremberg and 
always showed a sane, if shrewd, desire to see the em- 

*See page 178. 

265 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

pire powerful and well administered. With the assist- 
ance of the archbishop of Mainz (who influenced the 
other ecclesiastics) Friedrich had Rudolph elected 
king* (1273) ; it proved a wise choice — of great ben- 
efit to Germany and to the common people — for Ru- 
dolph soon demonstrated his sense and ability, and effi- 
ciently filled the throne. Many would not believe that 
there was a real king, at last. One of these, Ottocar 
king of Bohemia, learned it finally to his cost — for his 
army was defeated, and he slain, on the plain of March- 
feld (near Wagram). Having restored order among 
the lords and princes, the king, who never did things by 
halves, set to work to straighten out troublesome odds 
and ends; and he now showed even less ceremony, 
hanging many nobles who possibly boasted prouder es- 
cutcheons and longer pedigrees than his own. We 
need not hesitate to take an interest in the legends and 
romances of these old Rhine castles ; for though their 
owners were, many of them, strung up like common 
felons, they were merely misguided marauders drift- 
ing with the times. 

To tell the truth, this so-called robbery, when not 
carried to excess, was simply taking toll of travelers 
passing through one's land — an ancient, legitimate 
privilege. In return for this toll, nobles living along 
a river kept up the towpaths and supplied horses or 
mules to tow craft against the current; those living 
elsewhere kept the roads in order and furnished es- 
corts or guaranteed safe-conduct. In both cases the 
nobles hung their shields over the doors of their town 
houses as a sign that merchants and the better class of 
travelers might find food and shelter there; for the 



*Rudolph I, like Henry the Fowler, was not formally crowned 
emperor, though in each case the son 'and successor enjoyed 
full imperial honors, 

266 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

inns of that day were abominable. This is commonly 
believed to be the origin of the elaborate signs dis- 
played by old inns. 

Charlotte Yonge's "The Dove in the Eagle's Nest" 
describes a "robber" castle in Swabia and shows how 
ancient privileges were abused ; "Ehrenstein" by G. P. 
R. James, also a Swabian story, describes life in a 
medieval castle and the mysteries and superstitions at- 
tached to it; Robert Barr's "The Swordmaker," and 
especially his book of short stories, entitled "The 
Strong Arm," familiarize us with many interesting 
places, facts and legends of both Rhine and Moselle, 
though the liberties he sometimes takes with historical 
characters tend to rob these tales of probability. 

The chapel of St. Clement was constructed of wood 
from the trees upon which some of these unfortunate 
knights had been hanged, and of stones from the ruins 
of their castles; their bodies, stolen at dead of night 
from the gibbets, were buried in the chapel, in the hope 
that their souls would be saved from damnation. 
Eventually, the archbishop of Mainz absolved them 
and then they were buried in the consecrated church- 
yard, to the great comfort of sorrowing relatives, 
friends and retainers. 

Very soon after St. Clement's was passed, Falken- 
burg (generally known as Reichenstein) towered 
above us; it has been restored and is now a private 
residence. With it is connected the story of an heir- 
ess whose affianced lover, while stopping at a forest 
castle, fell victim to the charms of his host's daugh- 
ter. The strange, wondrous beauty of this lady, and 
their romantic meeting in the moonlight made Sir 
Knight forget all about his bride-to-be at Falkenburg; 
so next morning, he was greatly perplexed when his 
host maintained he had no daughter. From a peas- 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

ant guide, he learned the startling news that the old 
man once had a daughter of rare beauty, who made 
sport of her admirers and (somewhat after the man- 
ner of Princess Kunigunde of Kynast) egged them on 
to foolhardy deeds which ended in death. The mother 
of one of these unfortunate wooers called down a fear- 
ful curse upon the girl, in consequence of which she 
died; but her ghost still haunted the castle, and who- 
ever fell victim to her charms was doomed to die 
within a few months. Terrified, and smitten with re- 
morse, the knight hurried to Falkenburg and asked to 
be married at once. His request was granted, but the 
ghostly beauty claimed him nevertheless; for, during 
his honeymoon he died quite suddenly when the fate- 
ful day arrived. However, the curse did not pursue 
his widow, for her son grew to be a fine fellow, the 
idol of the whole countryside. 

Reichenstein and Rheinstein are connected by a leg- 
end. Gerda of Rheinstein was wooed and won by 
the heir to castle Sternburg who, as was customary, 
asked a relative to present his suit to Gerda's father. 
This relative was his uncle Gunzelin of Reichenstein. 
Once the crafty old Gunzelin had set eyes on Gerda, 
he determined to win her for himself ; and Gerda's fa- 
ther, whose cupidity overpowered him at prospect of 
a more brilliant match, accepted Gunzelin's suit. The 
wedding day was set and, willy-nilly, poor Gerda had 
to obey and set out for the Clemens Capelle to be 
married. Near the chapel, her palfrey suddenly shied 
and bolted. The senile bridegroom was hurled over 
the clifif to his death, in an attempt to stop the run- 
away ; Gerda's father fared little better in his attempt, 
though he escaped with broken bones. The bride 
seemed in deadly peril, when her former lover emerged 
from a hiding place where he had been watching the 

268 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

proceedings; he managed to seize the frightened steed 
and soon brought it to a standstill. Her father then 
experienced a change of heart, as all stern parents 
should under such circumstances, and the lovers were 
happily married. 

The gray walls of Sooneck rising from the hills, 
showed we were approaching our next castle and re- 
called the story of the blind archer and his terrible 
vengeance upon its lord, who was baiting this poor 
prisoner for the amusement of his guests. 

Shortly after leaving Rheinstein, we passed a 
steamer with many Americans aboard. Somebody's 
sharp eyes discovered our car and the miniatures of 
*'01d Glory" fluttering so bravely. Such a rush as 
there was to the starboard rail, and such shouting and 
waving of handkerchiefs. We waved, too, and Bob- 
bie honk-honked on his horn. "I can just imagine 
how glad they are to see us," said Mater. "I'm glad 
to see 'em, too — darn 'em all — " growled Scoffy, look- 
ing ready to quarrel with anybody who dared sug- 
gest he was sentimental. Had anything been lacking 
to make it a banner day this little greeting from 
*'Home, sweet home" filled the want completely. 
What wonder we were happy as children just out of 
school ! Scoffy waved to the disappearing vessel, and 
hummed a verse of that quaint German air, 

"Wenn du zu mein' Schatzel kommst. Sag' ich lass' 
sie griiszen; 
Wenn sie fraget wie mir's geht. Sag auf beiden 
Fiiszen. 
Wenn sie fraget wo ich sei, Sag ich sei gestorben; 
Wenn sie an zu weinen fangt — Sag ich kame Mor- 
gen." 

"By the way," cried Scoffy, "this is a most crushing 
269 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

argument to refute popular misconception concern- 
ing 'stolid, methodical Germans'; written for a man, 
mind you, but displaying all the caprice, inconsistency, 
whim — whatever you wish to term it — of a woman." 
We others smiled in tacit acquiescence. The follow- 
ing lines, though they do little justice to the original, 
will give an idea of it: 

If you meet dear sweetheart mine. Say I send a 
greeting; 
If questioned how I'm getting on — On shank's mare 
I'm speeding. 
If she wonders where I am, Say I'm dead of sorrow ; 
If her tears begin to flow. Say I'll call tomorrow. 

Fiirstenberg has a most thrilling legend, but it is 
the kind of story that, as the saying goes, "a young 
girl would not care to have her mother read," so I 
leave it to a more skillful pen than mine. 

On the opposite bank lies Lorch, at the mouth of 
the Wisper which has found its way from the famous 
Wisperthal, where the wind still whispers of wondrous 
treasure buried in castle ruins. Do not laugh with 
scorn at this fancy; for does not a treacherous wind, 
even now, whisper insistently to willing ears of untold 
treasure buried by a certain Captain Kidd, and howl 
derisively when fortunes are squandered in a vain 
search? What though foolish enthusiasts band to- 
gether under the impressive name of "syndicate" ; are 
they far removed in calibre, from the ill-fated wife 
of that miller of the Wisper, who died many centuries 
ago? Overlooking Lorch are ruins of castle Nollich, 
which undoubtedly saw the eleventh century, since it 
is mentioned in mo. A knight once scaled the west- 
ern cliff (called the "Devil's Ladder") on horseback, 

270 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

for reasons best known to himself and now variously 
interpreted. 

Our car carries us to Bacharach with its ruins of 
the church of St. Werner and its well-known timbered 
building. Ruins of Burg Stahleck (once the principal 
residence of the counts Palatine) command the town 
and, up the Steegerthal, are ruins of Burg Stahlberg. 
Do not assume that castles abounded on the Rhine 
alone; the adjoining country is dotted with ruins. In 
the Wisperthal, close by, are the remains of Rheinberg 
and Cammerberg and, in the adjoining Sauerthal, of 
Waldeck and of Sauerburg. 

Beyond Bacharach we pass a few more islands and 
then a bend in the river discloses that most quaint of 
island castles — die Pfalz. This tiny stronghold with 
its picturesque roof and turrets and projecting cor- 
ners, is entered by a doorway, six feet above the rock, 
to which access is now obtained by a flight of wooden 
steps. 

It would seem strange were no legend connected 
with this place. One story tells how Conrad of Ho- 
henstaufen — Barbarossa's brother — imprisoned his 
daughter here because of her attachment to a son of 
Henry the Lion in preference to suitors selected for 
her; the young man is said to have visited the Pfalz 
secretly and to have won over the girl's mother, who 
connived at their marriage in the dismal apartments 
of this island prison. The present building, erected as 
late as 13 14, can scarcely have witnessed these roman- 
tic scenes, but there was probably an older structure 
on this site. 

Gutenfels, which looks down upon the Pfalz from 
the heights above Caub, has a well authenticated ro- 
mance. Richard, earl of Cornwall, was victor in a 
tournament at Cologne (where he fought incognito) 

271 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

and received his laurels from the sister of the count 
of Falkenstein who lived at this very castle at Caub. 
Social amenities followed the tournament and the im- 
petuous knight wooed and won the fair lady, promis- 
ing to return in three months' time, when he would 
be free to disclose his identity and claim her hand. 
Time passed, but no fond lover appeared. When he 
did come, Count Falkenstein received him with scant 
courtesy, quickly amending this demeanor, however, 
upon learning the rank of his guest and that his pro- 
longed absence had been caused by his election as king 
of Germany. Guta, the fair sister, good soul that she 
was, threw herself upon his breast without waiting to 
hear who he was or why he had stayed away so long. 
It was well she felt that way about it, for the royal 
honors soon faded. 

This took place after the lapse of the Hohenstaufen 
line, when there were three claimants to the throne — 
Richard of Cornwall, William of Holland, and Al- 
fonso of Castile. Each had a certain amount of back- 
ing from some of the electors, but none was strong 
enough to push matters to a finish and make his empty 
honors real. In consequence there came that leader- 
less, lawless period, so terrible for Germany till prac- 
tical, hard-headed, iron-fisted Rudolph of Hapsburg 
came to the front and proved himself king in name 
and deed. But this romance was not shaken and, in 
honor of sister Guta, Count Falkenstein named his 
castle Gutenfels. 

A stretch of straight road brings us to Oberwesel, 
a picturesque town known to the Romans — as, indeed, 
were Bacharach, Bingen and other Rhenish towns. 
In 70 A. D., a battle between Romans and Gauls was 
fought at Bingium (Bingen). Just before Oberwesel, 
we pass below the ruined castle and modem chateau 

272 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

of Schonburg, both of which now belong to the Rhine- 
lander family of New York City. Count Frederick 
Hermann of Schonburg was the famous Marshal 
Schomberg, who eventually went to England with the 
prince of Orange and fell in the battle of the Boyne. 

Across the river is the Roszstein, a cliff somewhat 
resembling the Loreleifelsen. We did not have to 
wait long for this ; one great bend in the river, almost 
at right angles, then a turn back again to the left, and 
the famous Lorelei rose before us across the shimmer- 
ing stream that gleamed as if with the reflection of 
the whole wonderful Niebelungen treasure which, as 
every child can tell you, is buried here. This is the 
deepest part of the Rhine as well as the narrowest, 
and a thought of the many poor souls drowned in 
those rushing waters, while listening to the Lorelei's 
siren song, immediately came to us all. As if by pre- 
concerted action we struck up that famous melody, 
"Ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten, dass ich so 
traurig bin." 

This legend may easily have had a rather firm 
foundation of fact. The cliff has a remarkable echo, 
audible in certain places on the river in the quiet of 
night or early morning. What more likely than that 
some luckless fisher, or traveler, approaching in his 
skiff, of a moonlight night, should hear singing coming 
apparently from the great Lorelei cliff and — with no 
singer in sight — should, in those superstitious times, 
immediately ascribe a supernatural origin to the song. 
Under spur of a fevered imagination, he might even 
see the golden-haired Lorelei in the evening mists 
above him. So much being granted, the probability of 
his driving the boat against a reef and drowning in the 
black waters, is but a natural conclusion. 

After a sharp bend in the river bank, comes St. 

273 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Goar, with a harbor protected by breakwaters, domi- 
nated by the extensive ruins of castle Rheinfels, which 
was founded in 1276 by Count Diether III of Katzen- 
elnbogen — a powerful house once ruling all the terri- 
tory between the Rhine and the Lahn. A Rhine-toll 
was established at St. Goar on completion of the castle, 
one of the strongest on the river; once, twenty-six 
Rhenish towns banded together to destroy it, suffering 
defeat and the loss of some four thousand men. Until 
the middle of the eighteenth century it was never 
taken, and then only by surprise; while, in 1692, its 
Hessian garrison stood off an army of 24,000 French- 
men. Across the river stand remains of a fourteenth 
century castle, Neu-Katzenelnbogen, called Die Katz 
(the Cat) for brevity's sake. About three miles fur- 
ther along, and also on the opposite bank, are the ruins 
of castle Thurnberg, completed by Kuno von Falken- 
stein (archbishop of Treves) and derisively called Die 
Maus (the Mouse) by the Katzenelnbogen family. A 
remarkable name, this last (cat's elbow, if you trans- 
late it), possibly derived from a crook in the river, 
like Krumm (crooked) Elbow on the Hudson. Some 
maintain the family name was Katz and that the 
"elbow" was added in admiration of the arm of a fair 
countess of this line. 

Thurnberg's legend concerns a "white maiden" with 
whom young nobles were wont to fall in love; a pro- 
ceeding productive of no better results than courting 
nixie- 
Going inland from the Katz, up the Haselbach val- 
ley, you would find the splendid ruins of Reichenberg, 
£s well as those of two other castles of the old "Katz'* 
family. Castles there were a-plenty ; the whole Rhine 
country was full of them. The little ones usually 
owed allegiance to the big ones ; they, in turn, to others 

2;4 




COBLENZ: THE BRIDGE OF BOATS. {P. 282.) 




CASTLES THERE WERE A - PLENTY; THE WHOLE RHINE COUNTRY WAS 
FULL OF THEM. (P. 274.) 

THE RHINE. 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

still bigger — each to his overlord — up to the Landgraf, 
who looked up to the duke, or to the emperor direct. 
Those were strenuous days : overlords were sometimes 
away to the wars, or otherwise engaged; so it be- 
hooved all to keep armor bright and hands accus- 
tomed to the grasp of broadsword and battle-axe lest 
one might, suddenly, be gobbled up by one's neighbors. 

Rheinfels owns to a legend of lovers and a linden 
tiee, with a heavy villain doing incalculable damage 
to all three of them and, eventually, to himself as well. 
Indeed, the linden seems to appeal very strongly to 
German lovers of all times — witness that fine old 
song, "Am Brunnen vor dem Thore, da steht ein Lin- 
denbaum," as well as similar songs, through the ages, 
down to Meyer-Helmund's song, the "Lindenbaum," 
written, as it were, but yesterday. 

Salzig ("Salty" — from its saline springs) has little 
of interest beyond its location in one of the most ex- 
tensive cherry-growing districts of the Rhine. But 
across the river you may see ruins of the famous twin 
castles of Sterrenberg and Liebenstein, called "the hos- 
tile brothers." Their story is too well known to re- 
peat, but I call attention to the wall and moat between 
them, which lend credence to the tale. 

The next scene in our ever changing panorama was 
Boppard, quite a large town and watering-place. This 
is the ancient Bodobriga, said to have been founded 
by Celts and, later, fortified by the Romans, who 
named it after some of their engines of war. Con- 
siderable remains of Roman concrete walls are still 
extant. The town was ceded to the elector of Treves 
by Emperor Henry VII, but the new owner had to 
spend six years in obtaining possession; this accom- 
plished, he built the castle still standing down near the 
water, and never let go his grip. . . 

275 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

The Rhine now twists around in a huge S-shaped 
curve many miles in length, in the midst of which we 
see, on the opposite heights, the modern chateau 
Liebeneck. Coming out on a straight stretch again we 
get, across the river, a view of Braubach and of the 
Marksburg, said to be the only old castle on the Rhine 
that escaped destruction; for any that survived the 
hundred and one other vicissitudes incident to those 
times, were destroyed by the French who made a pretty 
clean sweep of the valley in 1688-9. This French 
invasion was due to Louis XIV's claiming the elector- 
ate (on the death of Charles, Elector Palatine) by 
virtue of the fact that his brother, Duke Philip of 
Orleans, had married a sister of the defunct elector. 
There was also a quarrel over the archbishopric of 
Cologne which Louis wanted to get for the bishop of 
Strassburg. Strassburg he had captured by treachery 
in 1 68 1. Now, he proceeded to lay waste a great 
part of the Palatinate. Towns and villages were 
mercilessly destroyed; Heidelberg, Speier, Worms, 
Mannheim and the whole country as far as the borders 
of Alsace were ravaged and burned in sheer wanton- 
ness not to be dignified with the term of military opera- 
tions. The most prominent act of outright vandalism 
in this campaign — if one may call it a campaign — was 
destroying the beautiful castle of Heidelberg. But far 
worse than the vandalism were the horrid atrocities 
practiced on peasants and townsfolk everywhere; the 
French commander Melac and his lieutenants estab- 
lished for themselves a reputation as terrible, under 
the circumstances, as that of bloody Alva. Louisa 
Miihlbach's "Prince Eugene and His Times" touches 
on these matters. If you will bear in mind some of 
these scores that France was running up against her- 
self with Germany, I shall tell you another by and by. 

276 



BINGEN, DOWN THE RHINE, COBLENZ 

After passing Braubach we entered Rhens, which 
has several half-timbered houses, but is famous mainly 
tor its mineral water — secured by tapping a spring 
in the river's bed, and piping the water to shore, where 
over five million bottles are annually put on the market. 
On the opposite bank are the Victoria and Minerva 
springs. 

A little below Rhens is the Konigsstuhl (king's 
chair), a masonry structure erected by Emperor 
Charles IV on the ancient meeting place of the elec- 
tors, and restored in the nineteenth century. It is 
octagonal in shape, 22 feet across and 18 feet high, and 
resembles a pulpit. Here, in 1338, the electors thought 
to end a vexing question by declaring every legally 
appointed German king therewith constituted Roman 
emperor whether crowned by the pope or not. Well 
meant, but not successful in practice, as Charles IV 
came out of the small end of the horn in his subsequent 
encounter with the pope, being, as the books say, 
"crowned with a humiliating ceremony." 

About three miles beyond the Konigsstuhl we come 
to the town of Capellen, above which is Stolzenfels. 
Built on the site of an older fortress by Arnold von 
Isenburg, archbishop of Treves, during the thirteenth 
century, it came to a miserable end at the hands of the 
French in 1869, ^s did so many others; among these 
its vis-a-vis, Lahneck, which towers above Nieder- 
Lahnstein at the mouth of the river Lahn. Stolzenfels 
was rebuilt by Frederick William IV, and many of the 
German and the English royalties of our time have 
tarried beneath its roof. This castle belongs to the 
crown and is open to the public at stated times. 

Had we left Frankfort earlier and spent the night 
in Bingen, or somewhere along the Rhine, we might 
have visited many castles and nearly all the ruins ; yet, 

277 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

too much of this sort of thing proves worse than too 
little, for the castles as well as the views are more or 
less alike. 

With the sight of the Lahn our trip along the Rhine 
is almost ended. Trolley-tracks and coffee gardens 
mark our approach to a large city, and soon we pass a 
great island in the river and enter Coblenz, our stop- 
ping place. 

Just before reaching here a motorcar approached, 
and the ladies in it jumped up and waved to us, one of 
them nearly falling out as she saluted our little Ameri- 
can flags. Real "Gibson girls" they were, too, and a 
sight for sore eyes, though I say it without prejudice 
to the rosy, flaxen-haired daughters of the Rhine. 



278 



CHAPTER XIV. 
COBLENZ TO TREVES: VIA THE MOSELLE. 

JULY 5TH, MORNING 8o MILES. 

COBLENZ — the Roman Confluentes — lies at 
the confluence of the Moselle and the Rhine. 
This beautifully situated town was founded 
nearly two thousand years ago; Drusus, in his cam- 
paigns against the Germans, built a castle here, in or 
before 9 B. C, to protect his military road which 
crossed the river below the present Moselle bridge, as 
remains of Roman bridge-piling would indicate. The 
present bridge dates from the middle of the thirteenth 
century, though is was widened in 1884. On the 
river bank just east of the Coblenz end of the bridge 
is the old palace of the electors of Treves. But the 
chief center of interest is the Deutsche Eck (German 
Corner), the tongue of land lying between the two 
rivers; on this splendid site — visible far up and down 
the Rhine and also up the Moselle — we find another 
colossal monument, the equestrian statue of Emperor 
William I, frankly called, in the inscription. Kaiser 
Wilhelm Der Grosse (Emperor William the Great). 
The statue, which rises impressively upon a mighty 
architectural base, is 46 feet high, and the accompany- 
ing female form (a genius of victory) is 30 feet tall. 

The first building behind the monument is the 
Deutsches Haus or Herrenhaus, a lodge of the Order 
of Teutonic Knights founded about the time of the 
third crusade. This order, which long outclassed both 

279 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

the Templars and the Hospitallers of St. John in the 
earnestness and integrity of its purpose, wore a white 
mantle with a black cross. Almost adjoining the 
Herrenhaus is the church of St. Castor, finest of the 
city's many fine old churches, founded in 836 by Louis 
the Pious. The present church with its four towers 
and handsome Romanesque apse was consecrated in 
1208, but the vaulted ceiling, which replaced the earlier 
flat ceiling, dates from 1498. 

Across the Rhine, on an almost inaccessible cliff, 
lies the modern fortress Ehrenbreitstein, called the 
Gibraltar of the Rhine. It was erected in 1816, on the 
site of a stronghold of the electors of Treves, which 
had itself been much enlarged from time to time. 

How much of the world's history Coblenz has gazed 
upon! The Teutons, the Romans, the Franks, each 
in their turn; then the division of Charlemagne's em- 
pire from which arose the Holy Roman Empire; the 
crusades, the Reformation, the decline of the Holy 
Roman Empire; Napoleon's march across dismem- 
bered Germany; and, finally, the formation of the 
present German empire. 

In 1018, Emperor Henry II gave the city to the 
archbishopric of Treves. In the twelfth century, poor 
Henry IV (of "excommunication" fame) was treach- 
erously seized here by his son (Henry V) ; and Conrad 
II was elected emperor in the church of St. Castor, 
whose walls rang later with the voice of Bernhard of 
Clairvaux preaching the second crusade. In the four- 
teenth century Edward III of England here met 
Emperor Ludwig, the Bavarian, to form an alliance 
against France in the Hundred Years' War. In the 
Thirty Years' War the city was taken by Protestants 
(Swedes) and retaken by imperial troops. The 
French, while devastating the Palatinate, laid siege to 

280 



TO TREVES VIA THE MOSELLE 

Coblenz, but withdrew after destroying most of its 
older section by their cannonade ; about a century later 
it again fell into their hands and was made the capital 
of the French department of the Rhine and Moselle. 

In 1814 "the allies" captured the city, which soon 
fell to Prussia, eventually becoming — as it still is — the 
capital of the Prussian province of the Rhine. From 
1850-58 Prince William, afterward Emperor Wil- 
liam I, lived here as its governor, and during these 
years his wife conceived a great and lasting affection 
for Coblenz. This mutual friendship between the citi- 
zens and the royal pair explains the "why and where- 
fore" not only of the gigantic monument to Kaiser 
Wilhelm der Grosse, but also of the handsome memo- 
rial to Empress Augusta which has been erected on the 
esplanade by the river she loved so well. 

You see how intimately Coblenz has experienced 
all these changes from the gray dawn of German his- 
tory, down to events of modern days familiar to you 
and me. I trust you may have the pleasure of sitting 
on the terrace here in the moonlight, a Schoppen of the 
fine wine we owe to Charlemagne at your elbow, 
watching the twinkling lights of the craft passing 
through the great Schiffbriicke — "a line of black that 
* * floats on the rising tide like a bridge of boats" 
— and pondering upon the lapse of time and the 
progress of human events. 

We arrived at Coblenz in good season for dinner. 
In the courtyard of that compound hotel, Zum Riesen- 
Fiirstenhof und Anker, we found five other motorcars, 
two of them bearing American flags. The hotel itself 
was gaily decorated and displayed a large American 
flag as central feature. Those Stars and Stripes! 
how brand new they seemed, for all their vicissitudes, 
in the shadow of twenty centuries. 

281 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

After dinner we strolled down to the Deutsche Eck, 
then returned to our apartments to sit upon tlie little 
balconies overlooking the river, and watch the opposite 
hills and the huge fortress of Ehrenbreitstein fade 
away into the night. Lights began to gleam on the 
pontoon bridge which was ever busy letting boats 
through. The movable section tloated aside down- 
stream, to the end of its tether of massive chains and 
then, by means of its engine, hauled itself back to close 
the gap. 

Later tlie military band gave a concert on the plaza 
in front of the hotel, where townspeople congregated 
in great numbers to listen to tlie music. American airs 
were played and there was even red tire burned in 
honor of the Fourth, W'e were greatly amused by 
the actions of the band which, at every intennission, 
repaired to the courtyard of the hotel to "wet their 
whistles," as Scofify declared. Pater had to go down 
each time to watch our car ; for these musical war- 
riors were intensely interested in automobiles, and 
there was much ado to restrain them in their investi- 
gations, which progressed from the opening of doors 
and lamps to trying the seats, leaning on the flexible 
ends of the mudguards, and spilling beer and crumbs 
over ever}^thing. I suppose their desire to claim 
complete familiarity with an "out-o" when they re- 
turned to their native town or village, led them to for- 
get their natural caution. A crooked or dented 
mudguard or a scratch on the expensive finish was a 
trifle in their eyes. Indeed, such things appeared to 
be trifles to men who should have known better; 
scarcely anywhere in Germany or England, outside of 
Hamburg, Frankfort, and London, did we strike a 
truly good garage. The superficial cleaning our car 
got made Bobbie swear, and it was a dirty, battered 

282 



TO TREVES VIA THE MOSELLE 

motor that we shipped home. Yet we did not care to 
urge Bobbie to do anything but overhaul the machin- 
ery, preferring to have him start each day with rested 
muscles and a clear head. 

Eight-thirty Sunday morning (July 5th) we left 
Coblenz for Metz by way of Treves, or Trier, as the 
Germans call it. Taking a wrong turn caused some 
trouble getting out of town; but once out, the road 
was easy to keep, as we had simply to follow the 
Moselle river. 

Driving along the left bank (going upstream) we 
saw a motor ahead. This aroused some misgivings 
about passing, for we thought it might belong to one 
of the people we had met at the Fiirstenhof, whose 
average speed often reached fifty miles per hour; but 
it proved to be only a German Adler car which we 
overtook quite easily. Meeting an auto was always 
quite an event in Germany, as we saw few except in the 
big cities. 

The Moselle trip was as delightful as that along the 
Rhine. Though a smaller river with fewer castles, 
especially restored ones, the Moselle is less spoiled by 
railroads and busy towns, while we had the added 
pleasure of feeling we were, in a measure, off the tour- 
ists' beaten track. The hills, too, are less completely 
devoted to vineyards than those of the Rhine and 
correspondingly prettier, and the occasional sheer 
cliffs or crumbling castle ruins add much interest. 

Our first castle was at Cobern, on the opposite bank. 
There were two, in fact, both once belonging to the 
knights of Cobern, the last of whom met an untimely 
end in 1536 as a disturber of the peace. In the upper 
Cobern castle is the notable chapel of St. Matthias, 
built in late-Romanesque style of the thirteenth cen- 
tury, 

283 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

A bit further along lies ancient Gondorf , and soon a 
sweep in the river discloses Aiken, upon our bank, with 
castle Thuron's ruins overhanging the town. Those 
who had read Robert Barr's "Thekla" were much in- 
terested in these remains of the castle of "Black" 
Count Heinrich of Palatine, who figures prominently 
in this story, as do the archbishops of Treves and 
Cologne and other historical characters. As a matter 
of fact, the castle really was a bone of contention be- 
tween these archbishops and the counts Palatine, to 
whom it belonged. It was once besieged by the two 
prelates, and 600,000 gallons of wine are said to have 
been consumed by the besiegers. What though the 
siege was unsuccessful; surely their achievement at 
drinking is glory sufficient for any host. 

The next bend takes us through the village of Brod- 
enbach, at the foot of a ravine once commanded by the 
Ehrenburg, now considered the finest ruin on the 
Moselle. 

The great Burg Eltz we did not see, for it lies back 
of Moselkern, in the valley of the Eltz river. Burg 
Eltz was never destroyed and remains for your inspec- 
tion, a fine specimen of simple medieval secular arch- 
itecture. Quite near it lie the ruins of Trutzeltz 
(Trotz Eltz, i. e. Defy Eltz) erected by Archbishop 
Baldwin of Treves, in the vain hope of controlling the 
great stronghold he could not conquer. 

Treis boasts two ruins, Schloss Treis and the 
Wildenburg, both lying up a little valley. At Treis, 
the road on our side left the river, so we were ferried 
across on a flatboat. It was one of those pendulum 
ferries in which the boat is propelled by the current, 
being swung across at the end of steel cables secured 
upstream. The craft is started by poling and run 
ashore by the same means, if necessary. The boat had 
just left as we approached. It was taking over a red 

284 



TO TREVES VIA THE MOSELLE 

automobile which we never expected to see again; but 
after going a short distance along the opposite shore 
we passed it stalled by the roadside, with most of its 
occupants hard at work replacing a punctured tire. We 
grinned somewhat maliciously, I fear — little realizing 
what was in store for us. 

Bobbie now followed the right bank going upstream. 
There were many people out for a Sunday stroll along 
the shore and he had to drive very carefully, to the 
distress of the Youth who worried lest we should be 
overtaken by that red car. The scenery was very 
pretty and picturesque, and in several places we saw 
remains of old walls and watchtowers at the water's 
edge. 

Cochem, a town of some size, lies at one of the 
prettiest spots on the Moselle. Burg Cochem, also 
mentioned in "Thekla," and once the property of 
Treves' archbishops, occupies the whole top of a hill 
overlooking the town and commands the river for 
miles in either direction. Up the Ender valley, about 
three miles back of Cochem, rises the tower of ruined 
Winneburg, the ancestral seat of the Metternich fam- 
ily from which the famous Prince Metternich was 
descended. 

The Moselle now begins to wind very much; from 
Cochem to Eller is three miles as the crow flies, but 
over twelve if you follow the river. The going is still 
first-class, as it has been, so far, all day. 

After Briittig and castle Beilstein a decided sweep 
in the stream, around Petersberg, makes the opposite 
shore look like a peninsula sticking out into the water. 
A strip of field and meadow stretches along the river's 
edge — cut off, apparently, by the mountains, from all 
communication with the world except by water. In 
this sheltered spot stand the ruins of a large church as 
well as walls of other structures — the monastery of 

285 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Stuben, founded in the twelfth century and suppressed 
at the end of the eighteenth. 

Almost opposite is the village of Bremm with a 
Gothic church and some quaint houses ; and here, they 
claim, the first grapes on the Moselle were planted. 
Whether the monastery planted the grapes or settled 
near them, is a question you may decide for yourself. 
Certainly, judging by the siege of Thuron, it must 
have been the one or the other. 

A straight run of some three miles brought us to 
Alf, where we decided to leave the river which now 
begins to have a very tortuous course; on the map it 
looks like a snake that has tied itself full of loops. The 
curve from Cochem to Eller was worth while even 
though it was as 12 to 3 when compared with a 
straight road. But the prospect of leaving Alf by the 
river road and driving some seven miles to reach the 
other side of the mountain, only a half mile away by 
air line, seemed too much of a good thing. At that 
rate we should never "get anywhere in time for sup- 
per," Scoffy plaintively remarked. Moreover, we had 
been twice warned that the direct road, inland, was in 
far better condition. The map confirmed this, so in- 
land we went. 

But, alas ! as we wound round the hills of the Alf 
valley to get back into the open country, a sharp curve 
proved too much for one of our rear tires. An ex- 
plosion like the sound of a shotgun rang out in the 
Sunday quiet, and we were stalled with our first 
blowout. 

"There!" cried Pater, "the old woman's curse has 
come to roost. While you people were good it 
couldn't touch us; but now that you laughed at those 
unfortunates in the red car, it has taken hold, and our 
clean score is broken." 

286 



TO TREVES VIA THE MOSELLE 

"Yes, and I'll bet we have some more before night," 
quoth the Youth. And so we did: one puncture and 
another blowout. 

Fortunately it was a pleasant spot to while away 
the forty-odd minutes required to make repairs. 
Imagine a pretty valley with the Alf murmuring over 
its stony bed. Across the stream, wooded hills; on 
our side, the steep mountain slope green with vineyards 
and crowned by the gray old ruins of Burg Arras. 
Built almost into the mountainside was a row of tiny 
houses, whose occupants — man, woman, and child — 
rushed out to our assistance (?). Scoffy, with his 
battery of German, stood by to protect Bobbie, while 
the rest of the party started up the mountain. But 
slippery grass made the ascent difficult, and our bugle 
sounded the recall long before Burg Arras could be 
invaded. 

From one of the little houses we managed to procure 
some very good beer cooled in a mountain spring. I 
must say that the spring water itself was more refresh- 
ing than any drink we had abroad, though probably 
no one but an American will be likely to credit the 
statement. 

They say Burg Arras was built (in 938) by Arch- 
bishop Robert of Treves, to reward a charcoal burner 
and his sons, who had accomplished the destruction of 
a band of Huns striving to penetrate the valley during 
one of their terrible invasions. 

"Charcoal burners are clever people," said Scofify. 
"There are these chaps saving the town from the 
Hungarians; then there were the fellows that nabbed 
Kunz von Kaufungen; and the one of the Schwarz- 
wald who found melted silver in his fire and, by work- 
ing at the same spot for years, accumulated sufficient 
treasure to rehabilitate a king, marry his daughter, and 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

be made duke of Zahringfen; and Others, and Others. 
No wonder that no romantic novel of the Middle Ages 
is complete without one. And you can't tell me they 
led a humdrum existence in the solitude of the forest 
primeval; they were forever catching somebody, or 
killing somebody, or finding somebody or something; 
and if no other excitement offered, they were being 
flogged by the nobility for getting in the way of the 
hunt." 

We whizzed through Kinderbeuren, Wittlich, 
Hetzerath and Fohren. The roads were excellent 
and, where they wound up long, steep grades, gave us 
many a fine view of the broad German land. After a 
bad combination of railroad crossings and bridges at 
Ehrgang, we again swept in quite close to the Moselle 
and soon crossed the bridge into Treves, the oldest 
town in Germany. 



2S8 



CHAPTER XV. 
TREVES (TRIER) AND THE ROAD TO METZ. 

JULY 5TH, AFTERNOON — 66 MILES. 
"ante ROMAM TREVERIS STETIT ANNIS MCCC." 

A LIKELY spot it must have been years ago 
with its wooded heights and lush meadow- 
land and the great red sandstone cliffs, which 
helped to build most of the town, rising abruptly at in- 
tervals along the river bank. 

"Now children," said Pater, looking over his 
glasses in his most impressive manner, "you want to 
look with all your eyes. At least, you should want to, 
for this is perhaps the oldest town you will ever see. 
Tradition says that Trebeta, stepson of Queen Semir- 
amis of Assyria, fleeing the country because his 
widowed stepmother wished to marry him, pursued 
his way westward until he reached the Moselle valley, 
where he founded Treves. All history is tradition if 
you go back far enough, though much of it has been 
confirmed by monuments and records. From the 
standpoint of authenticated history the actual age of 
Treves has not yet been determined. Julius Caesar, in 
his conquest of Gaul, overthrew the tribes of Treveri, 
but he made no mention of any special town; on the 
other hand Tacitus, about the first century A. D., twice 
mentioned that Colonia Treverorum was surrounded 
by walls, which argues a town of some importance." 

"Be that as it may, this much is certain: in the 
289 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

second half of the third century Treves became a 
second Rome, inasmuch as it became a favorite resi- 
dence of the Caesars, reaching the height of its glory 
as a Roman city in the fourth century. Under these 
circumstances " 

"Which way, Mr. Pater — right or left?" from 
Bobbie. 

"Bobbie!" said Pater, reproachfully, pausing in his 
peroration, "Bobbie, how can you interrupt me with 
such a foolish question when I am busy? Why, fol- 
low the trolley-tracks, of course." 

Meantime Pater's audience had become so deeply 
engrossed in looking at the town and watching for the 
Porta Nigra Hotel, that he followed suit. After 
traversing nearly the whole town we spied it — at least 
we spied the great Porta Nigra, black with age, and 
knew that the hotel must be close by. "Bobbie, that 
structure before you is about two thousand years old ; 
what do you think of that ?" "Oo-oo-oo !" responded 
Bobbie, and then added the auto drivers' highest meed 
of praise, "that's going some, sir!" 

On a glass-enclosed piazza facing this Roman gate- 
way, luncheon was served to our laughing, chattering 
group of motor tourists — and we tried hard, the while, 
to realize that those blackened walls across the way 
had looked down on Prankish host and Roman cohort, 
most twenty centuries ago. Four times the Franks 
captured Treves before they finally kept it. One is 
tempted to speculate why they spared the Porta Nigra ; 
perhaps from a sense of admiration of this huge 
structure, impressive even to us. - Had their enemy 
been Wends, not Franks, there is little doubt the 
Romans could have held this gate indefinitely, for it 
would have seemed to those savages infinitely more 
awe-inspiring than their huge stone god,..Triglaph. 

.290 




TREVES: THE PORTA NIGRA — SOME TWO THOUSAND 
YEARS OLD. {P. 290.) 




" METZ IS A CITY OF SURPRISES." {P. 307.) 



TREVES AND THE ROAD TO METZ 

Constantine Christianized Trier, and Agricius of 
Antioch was (about 314) elected its first bishop. The 
bishops became archbishops, then princes of the Holy 
Roman Empire, sovereign princes, and ultimately 
electors. France (i. e. Napoleon) put an end to the 
electorate in 1801, but the bishopric was restored the 
following year. 

We were not surprised to find numerous and ex- 
tensive Roman ruins, nor to learn that Roman relics 
found in and about Treves are among the finest dis- 
covered anywhere outside of Italy. The palace of 
the Caesars, the amphitheatre on the town's outskirts, 
the enormous thermae, the basilica (now a Protestant 
church) — all point to a Roman city of considerable size 
and importance. Even the piers of the bridge over 
the Moselle are, with two exceptions, Roman. The 
cathedral, one of Germany's oldest churches (an al- 
tered basilica of the fourth century) is an interesting 
ensemble of various styles of architecture — the exter- 
ior, decidedly Romanesque — the demarcation between 
the Roman work of alternate brick and stone, and the 
Romanesque work, being quite perceptible. 

The Protestant basilica, like other Roman buildings 
and ruins, shows an elaborate system of hot air ducts 
in the masonry, for heating the buildings in this com- 
paratively inclement climate. Surrounding the basilica 
is the old elector's palace, now used as barracks; this 
belongs to the Renaissance period and one wing is 
decidedly Roccoco. 

On the Markt stands a "cross" from 958, restored 
in 1723. Surrounding the Markt are some fine old 
secular buildings: das Rote Haus (the red house), 
formerly the Rathaus, bears the inscription in Latin, 
"Treves stood MCCC years before Rome ;" adjoining 
is the Steip, built in 1453, ^^ ^ casino for the Ratsher- 

291 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

ren. Towering above the market place is the spire of 
St. Gangolph's — a very new church in such an old 
town, though dating from before the discovery of 
America. 

About three-quarters of a mile south of the city, the 
once noted Benedictine abbey of St. Matthias presents, 
when seen through its arched street entrance, a very 
striking picture; the abbey possesses the sarcophagus 
of the apostle Matthew as well as a piece of the true 
cross. 

The legends of the Moselle are as numerous as those 
of the Rhine, so I'll risk but one excursion into this 
land of fairy tales for "grown-ups." It wouldn't seem 
fair to leave the Moselle without telling the story of 
its most famous wine — Bemcastler Doctor, it is now 
generally called. Look at the wine list of any good 
hotel and you may read this strange name, which the 
vintage has borne for some five hundred years. 

Just about that many years ago there lived in Treves 
an old knight whose name is unknown to history. This 
veteran learned, one day, that his friend and benefac- 
tor, Bishop Bohemund, had fallen seriously ill of fever 
at the town of Berncastel. Later reports were not en- 
couraging ; neither leech nor herbalist could help ; and 
it was noised abroad that the bishop offered a reward 
to any man who could cure him. The old soldier 
remembered that he himself had once been cured of a 
similar ailment by wine grown near the very town at 
which the bishop lay. So he thought, "If once, why 
not again?" and set forth to the patient's bedside. 

The bishop looked askance at the little wine-cask the 
knight carried, but, knowing him a friend and being in 
despair, he agreed to take a hearty drink ; having had 
recourse a second time to the little cask, he fell into a 
sound sleep from which he awoke much refreshed. 

292 



TREVES AND THE ROAD TO METZ 

This treatment was continued until the pleasing report 
could be made that the bishop was quite well again ; 
and this wine has been called Berncastler Doctor ever 
since. Berncastel, on that part of the Moselle which 
we skipped in the short cut from Alf to Trier, is a 
quaint little place with a castle, but aside from this, has 
nothing to recommend it except its excellent wine. 

We took only a fleeting view of Treves ; of its won- 
derful collections of antiquities, not even a peep. For 
our chief, like the Germans in 1870, raised the cry, 
"On to Metz." Bidding good-by to the Moselle for 
a while, we headed south, past the ruins of the palace 
of the Caesars, past St. Matthias, and Karthaus with 
its old Carthusian monastery (now a convent of Fran- 
ciscan nuns), to the suburb of Conz. This was the 
Roman Contianacum and traces of an imperial villa, 
mentioned by the poet Ausonias, are still to be seen. 

Here we crossed the Saar near its confluence with 
the Moselle, and followed the former, through Conen 
and Ail to Saarburg. Saarburg, at the junction of the 
Saar and the Leuk, is very picturesque, and above it 
lie the extensive ruins of a castle of the electors of 
Treves. A long tunnel leads from the town right 
underneath the castle, and we were halfway through 
this before we decided it was the wrong road; conse- 
quently we had to back all the way out again, to the 
great terror of people who were just leaving a church 
near the entrance. 

The road now climbed up into the hills, giving us a 
splendid view in all directions. Far below, we could 
see the Leuk winding along and, round about, pic- 
turesque valleys with vineyards, woods and fields. The 
roads were beautiful — wide and hard, and smooth as 
a billiard table, and lined on both sides with footpaths 
shaded by fine trees, "A regular lover's lane," said 

293 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Mater; "it's a shame not to go fifty miles an hour," 
said Bobbie; Pater said nothing, but enjoyment was 
written on his every feature as he sniffed the sweet- 
scented air and turned from side to side to miss noth- 
ing of the lovely view. 

After running almost west for a while, the road, at 
the entrance to a little village, suddenly veered south ; 
so unexpected was the change that Bobbie drove twQ 
wheels into the ditch before he was headed in our new 
direction. Sliding downhill and around this curve 
with locked brakes was not without unpleasant conse- 
quences, for a minute later we heard the hiss of a 
puncture. 

"My, what a shame!" cried Pater, "I should like to 
have gone on riding like that forever." 

However, we derived no little amusement inspecting 
the village and its inhabitants. Buildings were now 
beginning to take on a decidedly French aspect, es- 
pecially the more pretentious villas. Some curious 
structures we could not catalogue; they looked like a 
cross between dovecotes and the old-time spring 
houses used by country people for cooling milk or 
meat. 

With an invocation to the "old lady" to remove her 
curse, we resumed our way. The scenery was delight- 
ful; we had again reached the Moselle which flowed 
along below us, at the foot of the heights. Across 
the valley lay the principality of Luxemburg, resplend- 
ent in the purple haze of late afternoon. 

And so we rode along through Perl, Sierck and 
Konigsmachern until we had to descend from our 
heights into the fortified town of Diedenhofen — in 
French, Thionville. At Nennig, not far from Perl, 
there has been brought to light a Roman villa contain- 
ing a remarkable mosaic pavement (33 ft. x 49 ft. in 

294 



TREVES AND THE ROAD TO METZ 

size) nearly as large as the mosaic of the athletes in 
the Lateran at Rome, and said to be finer in execution ; 
we missed it, unfortunately, being then unaware of its 
existence. Sierck is a very picturesque town dominated 
by the ruins of a castle once belonging to the dukes of 
Lorraine. 

Thionville, once little more than a border fortress, 
still has a garrison of some three thousand men. 
Known as Theodonisvilla at the time of the Franks, it 
became a residence of Charlemagne and afterward of 
Louis the Pious. Vauban, the great French fortress 
builder, encircled it with mighty walls and bastions of 
masonry, and the modern town labored under a great 
handicap before, it managed to burst its stone bonds 
and develop according to its merit. The fortifications 
are being removed and the town, which supports a 
heavier railway traffic than either of its large neigh- 
bors, Metz and Treves, is beginning to get a chance to 
.spread. There are numerous blast furnaces in and 
around Thionville and we eyed these curious structures 
with interest. Crossing the Moselle bridge we had a 
glimpse of the Flohturm, a squat fourteen-sided tower, 
the town's oldest building, believed to stand on the 
foundations of a sixteen-sided chapel built by Louis the 
Pious. 

The town was swarming with soldiers and had some 
sort of douane. Learning we came from Germany 
(not from France or Luxemburg) and were heading 
for Metz, they sent us on our way without any com- 
ment except as to the roads. There had been bicycle 
races in the outskirts of the town, and we were much 
amused at the sight of many female contestants, 
garbed, except for the boots, in regular jockey costume. 

Just outside the hamlet of St. Remy, in a most 
desolate looking stretch of country, with dusk coming 

295 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

on rapidly, a deafening report notified us that another 
rear tire had breathed its last. We had been going at 
a pretty good gait along this dusty and rather indif- 
ferent road, and as the screeching brake brought us to 
a stop on the side path we thanked our stars that alert 
Bobbie was at the wheel. A hasty diagnosis showed it 
was a nasty blowout and, being short of inner tubes, 
we would have a long wait till a punctured one could 
be patched. 

These incidents, otherwise trivial, are told to show 
the ills that pursue private cars. In addition to the 
baggage for a large party you can carry only a limited 
supply of tubes and shoes, and, should bad luck set in, 
you are forced to limp along as best you may on very 
tender material until a base of supplies is reached. 

As Bobbie set to work, Pater walked ahead to 
reconnoitre and learned that the railroad station at 
Woippy was within walking distance. 

"Now, children, which shall it be ? Woippy was the 
scene of Marshal Bazaine's last sortie ; it has a sinister 
sound. This is our last tire; the sound is just as bad. 
Shall we walk to Woippy and take the train, or stick to 
the car?" 

"Stick to the car," we shouted, while Bobbie grinned 
in appreciation. The tiresome wait in the choking 
dust raised by passing teams was not without its en- 
livening incident. Hardly had Bobbie set to work to 
repair damages when a noisy little De Dion runabout, 
the size of an overgrown baby carriage, came chuffing 
loward us. It contained three young men who kindly 
proffered assistance. One of them descended and 
delivered a fusillade of French at short range. But 
crafty Pater, knowing we were in the border country, 
replied in German, which thereupon became the 
medium of conversation. It seems that, like mariners 

296 



TREVES AND THE ROAD TO METZ 

at sea, they had long since discovered us by the smudge 
we raised on the horizon, and, hearing the blowout 
nearly a mile away, had hastened back to pick up our 
remains. Cheerfully masking their disappointment, 
they offered to do what they could to help repairs 
along, but we declined. Not to be cheated out of 
some expression of courtesy, one of the youths handed 
Pater a gorgeous bouquet with the request that he 
present it to "Madame." Mater accepted it, and 
bowed her thanks as the trio was chuffed away. 

"It was a shame to take it," quoth Mater, smiling 
delightedly. 

"Oh, he expected to plant it on your grave. Ma, so 
you might as well have it anyway," retorted the Youth. 

Being anxious to get safely to the city, we let 
chateau Ladonchamps, and Woippy and its Roman 
road, flash by unnoticed. Not till we reached the out- 
works of Metz and saw the cathedral's great nave 
rising above this famous fortress, did we breathe a sigh 
of relief, and, as Scoffy says, "begin to sit up and take 
notice." 



297 



CHAPTER XVI. 
METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS. 

JULY 6th. 

METZ, the Romans' Divodurum, was — ^before 
their day — a seat of the Galhc tribe of Medio- 
matrici and this word, contracted into Mettis, 
formed the origin of the present name. Since 300 
A. D., Metz has been a fortress and, except as such, 
its interest to the tourist is virtually limited to two 
buildings — the cathedral and the Deutsches Tor — and 
to the foundations of a third, the Roman palace. In 
the division of Charlemangne's empire, Metz fell to 
Germany; it became a free city of the Holy Roman 
Empire and remained so until 1552. At this time 
unlucky Charles V of Germany, whose acquaintance 
you made at Halle and whom I promised to men- 
tion again, was engaged in a terrible war with re- 
bellious princes and electors. Henry II of France 
(ostensibly as an ally of the rebels) seized the bish- 
oprics of Metz, Toul and Verdun; but when the 
rebels had been conquered, Henry retained these bish- 
oprics and refused to give them up again as agreed 
by the peace of Passau. The emperor tried to recover 
Metz, which was defended by the Due de Guise. Poor 
Charles ! he had to beg the favor of some of his princes 
before he could even commence the siege, which was 
finally begun under Duke Alva's command. But, what 
with Guise and the terrible winter which decimated the 
besieging army, the capture could not be effected ; and 

299 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

we are told that Emperor Charles — after the retreat 
to Diedenhofen (Thionville) — never smiled again. 
Obliged to give up his ambition — so nearly realized — 
of becoming a second Charlemagne, he abdicated and 
retired to the monastery of St. Just where, soon after, 
he died. 

In the dispassionate judgment of our day Charles V 
has, at last, been accorded his true standing as one 
of the world's greatest rulers. That his name did not 
eclipse Charlemagne's, is due to the difficulties under 
which he labored and to the bitter religious antagonism 
of his time. Excepting only France and Scandinavia,* 
he was striving to weld the whole Christian Continent 
into one vast empire — a herculean task even in times of 
peace; but France was continually warring on him in 
the west, and in the east the Moslems were threatening 
Vienna. These things alone were trouble enough; 
what a pity his "house" was divided against itself by 
Martin Luther. Charles had a liberal and sagacious 
mind ; had he realized at first — as he did before long — 
the power and extent of the Reformation, subsequent 
history of the world might be written differently: a 
few concessions, a little toleration from a ruler not 
really intolerant, would have won a more lasting suc- 
cess than did the imperial arms. But it is not always 
given to the great to read the whole future. 

As it is, you and I owe much to this Holy Roman 
emperor. All the important Spanish discoveries 
(after Columbus) fell in his reign; Cortez, De Soto, 
Pizarro, Narvaez, Mendoza, . Coronado, and a dozen 
other explorers, enjoyed his countenance or support, 
and the fruit of their daring conquests was made se- 
cure by orderly, established government; under his 



*Up to 1480, Russia was still under sway of the Mongolians. 
300 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

special patronage a Portuguese, Magellan, found the 
southwest passage to the East Indies, and in 1521 dis- 
covered the Philippines. In 15 13, the Spaniard Balboa 
had crossed the isthmus of Panama, and discovered the 
ocean which Magellan afterward named the Pacific. 
Florida, Mexico, Peru, Brazil, the Amazon, the Missis- 
sippi, Colorado and the great West, the passage to the 
Indies ! — what wonderful enterprises, what remarkable 
?dditions to actual knowledge Europe owed, at its very- 
renaissance, to the open mind and clear judgment of 
Kaiser Karl V, that worthy grandson of America's 
greatest benefactress, Isabella of Castile. 

The immediate cause of France's declaration of war 
in 1870 need hardly be mentioned here. We have all 
heard of the siege of Metz in 1870 — a matter of our 
own day ; but not so many are familiar with that other 
siege of Metz, in the distant Middle Ages, when 
Charles V tried to recover his stolen cities. This is 
the other item that I wished to add to the score of 
France versus Germany. 

The cathedral (St. Stephen's), begun In 1250, is 
another example of the beauty and dignity a Gothic 
church can attain without its originally projected 
spires, provided it is not left with meaningless stumps 
as are so many English churches. Metz cathedral 
originally consisted of two churches, the bishopric 
being obliged to yield a portion of its edifice to the 
worshipers of a church torn down to make way for 
the cathedral. The great portals under the towers 
were formerly entrances for that part of the edifice 
devoted to the cathedral. It is certainly a beautiful 
church; "all windows and no wall" — its leaded work, 
fine stained glass of the thirteenth, fourteenth and 
fifteenth centuries. 

In one tower hangs die Mutte (la mutte, probably 
301 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

from ameuter or s'ameuter), the old alarm bell. I have 
neglected the subject of old bells; a pity, too, for, in 
lieu of newspapers and bulletins, their brazen throats 
announced all the stirring events. One time, when 
Charles IX was sojourning in Metz, the Mutte cracked 
in announcing the supposed victory of his troops over 
the Huguenots at Jarnac and the reported capture of 
Coligny: hence the saying, "The Mutte will crack 
rather than tell a lie." The bell was cast in 1381, 
broke in 1427, and has been recast four times since — 
last in 1605. From the time of the French occupation 
in 1552 till 1790, the Mutte rang at six o'clock "to say 
good-night to the king of France and his family." 
Rather was it saying "good-night" to Metz; for this 
city of 60,000 inhabitants soon dwindled down to 
20,000, and has but recently regained the original 
figure — more than half of the population (exclusive 
of the garrison) being German. The Deutsches Tor 
(German gate), the most interesting of the town's 
old city gates, has an inner gate dating from the 
thirteenth century and an outer one, added in 
the fifteenth I walls connect these, turning the whole 
into a small castle or fort, and here the city's 
most interesting collections are being installed. The 
neighborhood is rich in Roman relics; Roman roads 
radiate from Metz in all directions and, of those to 
Verdun, Trier, and Saar, sections are still in use. 

The big Roman aqueduct from Ars to Jouey, of 
which eighteen piers are still standing a few miles 
south of the city, gave rise to a legend about a gay 
Lothario who, poaching on forbidden preserves, was 
caught by a rise in the river. He made a compact 
with the devil for a substantial bridge across the river, 
but cockcrow stopped the work before completion. 

The most interesting tale current in Metz is that 

302 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

Joan of Arc reappeared in 1436, was positively identi- 
fied by the town council, and remained during the 
greater part of May. Where she went then, is uncer- 
tain, owing to a number of contradictory stories. 

Heiligen-Kreuz Platz (place Ste. Croix) was the site 
of the Roman governor's residence; it afterward be- 
came the palace of the Frankish kings, and the massive 
foundation-vaults of buildings on the north side of 
Trinitarier Strasse are undoubtedly part of this. 

Think of it ! these old vaults echoed to the voices of 
the Merovingian kings : the terrible Childeric ; his son 
Chlodwig (Clovis) — that strange Christian who cheer- 
fully murdered most of his relatives and neighbors to 
acquire their west Frankish possessions; Chlotar, and 
Chiidebert (king of "Paris") and Chilperic, king of 
Burgundy; and the terrible, bloody Queen Brunhilde, 
and Chlotar II, who captured her and had her dragged 
to death by a wild horse. All this was before 614 
A. D. ; later, Charlemagne and other German kings of 
the Franks trod these halls. Do you happen to recall 
how the Germans came to rule the Franks ? 

Well — to go back to beginnings, as story-tellers are 
prone to do — on the eve of Chlodwig's birth his father, 
Childeric, had a strange vision: glancing from the 
palace door he saw lions and leopards and other mon- 
archs of field and forest; looking again, he saw bears 
and wolves; and, the third time, dogs and numerous 
small animals engaged in destroying one another. The 
queen interpreted the vision. "Our son," she said, "will 
be strong and courageous like a king of beasts ; his 
children, bold and thievish, like bears or wolves ; their 
children, cowards, like dogs ; and the small animals you 
saw — those are the Franks who, trying to kill one 
another, will destroy themselves." And so it proved ; 
what with excesses, insatiable greed, and foolish feuds, 

303 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

they destroyed their natural alhes and so weakened 
their own royal power that after (some say with) 
Dagobert, the Merovingian kings were not worth their 
salt. The government's real power lay with the 
mayor of the palace (majordomo). Pipin Heristal, of 
pure German extraction, the majordomo at Metz and 
Rheims, defeated the majordomo of Soissons, becom- 
ing chief of the land. His son was Charles Martel 
and his grandson, Pipin the Short, was elected king of 
the Franks; Charlemagne was Pipin the Short's son. 
Thus, through Charles Martel at Tours, through 
Charlemagne at Saxony and Frisia, through Henry 
the Fowler at Brandenburg and Merseburg, did Ger- 
man kings thrice save Europe from infidel and 
heathen, and preserve Christianity. 

Thus ended the glory of that proud tribe of Franks 
who claimed to be Trojans — to have migrated to Gaul 
sfter the fall of Troy; and thus perished the direct line 
of the Merovingian kings who boasted the blood of a 
god in their veins (Neptune or his Austrasian equiva- 
lent), as their name Meer Angelinge or Adelinge — sea 
rngels or nobles — is sometimes taken to imply. 

They lived in strenuous days. After Chlodomer's 
death, his sons were cared for by their grandmother 
Chlotilde. Her other sons demanded them and after- 
ward sent her a sword and a pair of shears, intimating 
that the boys should either be put to death or lose their 
long locks, then the sign of nobility. "If they cannot 
have their rights, better they should die," said Chlo- 
tilde, and sent back the sword. Dagobert, himself no 
very pleasing sort of man, so we are told, found faith 
and constancy only among his dogs; he had them 
brought to his deathbed and said to them: "There is 
no company so good, but one must leave it." 

Much more attractive are the legends, from Charle- 

304 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

magne down, praising the constancy and purity of 
German women. A tale almost identical with that of 
Henry the Lion is told about Charlemagne and his 
queen — except that he anticipated the marriage nobles 
sought to force upon her for the country's good, by 
appearing on his throne in St. Peter's church at Metz, 
have ridden from distant Bohemia, in three days, on 
three marvelous horses. Of the noble Moringer, who, 
also, was away to war over seven years, a story even 
more like Henry the Lion's is told. Indeed, the fate 
of women cooped up in castles, awaiting their lord's 
uncertain return — often precluded by death — was a 
vexing problem in those days. Count Uffo of M511en- 
beck, one of these belated absentees, dreamed, on his 
way home, that his wife had borne nine children. Sure 
enough, his countess exclaimed she had thought him 
dead, but had not been lonesome, as she had given him 
nine daughters to care for. The disgruntled count, 
a very just man, collected himself sufficiently to say, 
"So be it; the fault is mine. Your children shall be 
my children. I'll see they are properly dowered." 
"Oh, but they are all devoted to the church," said she ; 
and, to his relief, he learned that the "children" were 
churches the loving woman had founded for the re- 
pose of his soul. 

The knight Alexander of Metz, is hero of the 
famous crusader story, "The man before the plough." 
Though the infidels yoked him to a plough for years, 
he would not renounce his religion; the sultan's in- 
sinuation that Alexander's wife would no longer re- 
main faithful, he laughed to scorn. The sultan 
actually did find means to send his handsomest prince 
to Metz with carte blanche to prove the knight a liar; 
but neither splendid gifts nor fair words could tempt 
Alexander's lady, who afterward cut off her hair and, 

305 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

in pilgrim's garb, effected her husband's release by her 
wonderful minstrelsy. 

We must say farewell to German legends. I regret 
that our route limited my choice, else I might have en- 
livened the recital by many which are more characteris- 
tic because of their humorous insight into human 
nature. Like the story gravely attested to by a burgo- 
master — under official seal — that a certain citizen,- 
nearly surprised at a forbidden tavern by his wife, de- 
parted so hurriedly he left his shadow behind — dis- 
tinctly visible on the tavern wall. Think it over, if you 
are "English," as the saying goes. 

The northern part of old Lorraine is the 
acknowledged scene of Lohengrin's exploits, variously 
described as occurring in the reign of Henry the Fow- 
ler or of Otto the Great, his son. The Swan Knight 
was patron saint of this country whose German name 
"Lothringen" is said to be derived from Loherangrin 
or Loherangarin. 

Entering the city through the Diedenhofer Tor and 
crossing the bridge, we could see the dread Fonts des 
Morts downstream. On the grass-grown ramparts, 
close at hand, iron crosses mark the pitiful end of some 
of the countless thousands of 1870, buried where they- 
fell. 

For once we could not pursue our usual plan of fol- 
lowing the trolley-tracks, as a sign warned off all 
vehicles, probably because of the street's extreme nar- 
rowness. So Bobbie turned left and drove in past the 
barracks, following the city wall. We now heard 
French spoken as much as German. Soldiers were 
seen everywhere, for Metz is still a fortress and the 
Kaiser keeps it garrisoned with about 28,000 men. 
Beyond the Deutsches Tor we got pretty well lost, and 
were just asking our way when a wheelman sent from 

306 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

the hotel to look for us, arrived on the scene. The 
Hotel Royal had been highly recommended, but it was 
a pretty mediocre sort of place for all its enterprise in 
the way of wheelmen. 

When the Due de Guise put the city into a state of 
defense he razed the entire suburbs, including the fa- 
mous monastery of St, Arnulf, even destroying much 
of the old town just inside the line of the walls. 
Vauban made elaborate plans for fortifications, but 
died before he had finished the outlying forts — since 
completed by the Germans, who also built another ring 
six miles beyond the town. All city walls are now 
being demolished, as too antiquated for modern war- 
fare. 

Metz, in its semi-reconstructed state, is a city of 
surprises; you are liable to run across a fragment of 
wall with an old city gate, right in the midst of mod- 
ern dwellings. In tearing down the ramparts not far 
from our brand-new, art nouveau hotel, Roman graves 
of the third century were unearthed. It is probable 
that in ten years' time you will find little left of this 
place where Kaiser Karl IV published part of the 
famous Golden Bull, which confirmed the seven elec- 
tors of the empire, making their office inalienable and 
hereditary, and their persons sacred. Perhaps you 
may then still see the ancient nobles' residence in the 
Trinitiirier Strasse (Hotel St. Livier, now a girls' 
school), a type of building for which Metz was once 
famous; or the Templars' chapel (uncovered while 
tearing down a part of the citadel), an octagonal 
building of the twelfth century; or, near this, 
part of the seventh century basilica of St. Peter, now 
used as a dovecote for the army's carrier pigeons. 

Our days in Germany were virtually over. Look- 
ing back, it seems probable one may count on hiring' 

307 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

motorcars, here, only in large cities. As regards 
touring centers, our experience suggests the following 
places and routes. Landing at Hamburg, Kiel and 
Liibeck could be visited in one day's run, while a two- 
day trip over part of our route might include Celle 
and Hanover, with a stop for the night at Brunswick 
or at Hildesheim. This two-day trip could start from 
Bremen, should you disembark here, but with less like- 
lihood of obtaining a suitable car. 

From Dresden, Meissen and the Moritzburg may 
be seen in one day; the Saxon Switzerland in an- 
other. Motoring from Leipsic westward through 
Halle, Eisleben, Quedlinburg, Halberstadt and Blank- 
enburg to Goslar, returning over the Harz to Nord- 
hausen, then home via our route (or Merseburg), 
would take fully two days; to do this in comfort — • 
especially if a view of the Selke Valley, Bodethal, or 
other sections of the Harz is contemplated — three days 
would be required. A two-day tour southwest from 
Leipsic might include Altenburg, Gera, Jena, Weimar 
and Erfurt. 

With Frankfort as a center, Eisenach and the Thur- 
ingian Forest could be seen in two days, while either 
Heidelberg or Rothenburg-on-Tauber could be visited 
in one, providing you are willing to start early and 
make a long run. A fine tour, covering about four 
days, would embrace our Rhine-Moselle trip to Metz 
and a return to Frankfort via Strassburg and Heidel- 
berg. 

In Bavaria, Munich looks promising as a center; 
Nuremberg may present difficulties in securing cars, 
but could be readily used as a subcenter. Indeed, 
hiring your car in one city and using another place, not 
too far distant, as a subcenter will solve many difficul- 
ties in Germany and else Adhere. This would seem 

308 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

necessary in eastern Prussia ; for old towns like Thorn, 
Koenigsberg and Danzig are practically beyond reach 
from Berlin, just as Osnabriick and Dortmund are al- 
most beyond reach from Bremen. 

With a feeling of regret we entered the car for the 
run across the border. It led right through those 
famous battlefields of 1870, and we started west on 
the very same road to Verdun along which the French 
had expected to retire. Crossing the Pont des Morts 
north of Pulverinsel (Powder Island), Bobbie turned 
down to Moulins. Round about, rose the great forts 
where many a bloody fight has raged. Just before 
climbing the heights toward Gravelotte we encountered 
a German army. At least, it seemed an army to us as 
the men went filing by, battalion after battalion, regi- 
ment after regiment. They were dressed in khaki, 
their haversacks and canteens were covered with khaki, 
their helmets were covered with khaki, and the whole 
outfit was covered with dust. But they looked neat 
and trim and soldierly, though just returning from a 
hard, morning drill ; a great contrast to the soldiers we 
saw later, in the sloppy-looking uniforms of France. 

What an inspiring place for drilling soldiers of a 
martial nation! amid monuments and graves of well- 
nigh forty thousand of their countrymen who died 
that the Rhine might stay the German Rhine, that a 
new German empire might be founded, and that poor, 
lost Lorraine might come back to the fatherland after 
its exile of almost four hundred years. 

It was exactly thirty-eight years and thirty-nine 
days since the beginning of that terrible battle around 
Metz, which ended in a second siege so different from 
the first. When on the 14th of August, 1870, Gen- 
eral Baron von der Golz received orders to attack the 
enemy east of Metz and hold him in play, he little 

309 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

suspected what a fearful blow his movements would 
inflict upon France. Von der Golz attacked cautiously 
but persistently, and, by clever management, was soon 
able to report to General von Steinmetz, his com- 
mander, the gratifying information that the whole 
French third corps was engaged, and that the second 
was on the point of being drawn into action. Overjoyed 
at the news, von Steinmetz notified General von Man- 
teuffel to fall upon the enemy's left flank. No sooner 
said than done, with the result that not only was the 
second French corps committed to the fight, but even 
the fourth became involved. 

This probably sounds like Greek to the reader, but is 
easily explained. Marshal Bazaine, in command of 
the French army in and around Metz, had fallen back 
to this city waiting for Marshal MacMahon to join him 
from the north ; but MacMahon was cut off from Metz 
and headquarters notified Bazaine that he had best 
retire and make his junction later. Meantime, Prince 
Friedrich Carl (popularly called the Red Prince), 
nephew of Emperor (then King) William I, was 
straining every nerve to rush his army across the Mo- 
selle, south of Metz, in order to cut off Bazaine. 

The task seemed hopeless, for on the 14th Bazaine 
had already decided to retreat, and on the 15th the 
French advance guard and Emperor Napoleon III 
were on the road to Verdun, while Prince Friedrich 
Carl, like Sheridan, was many miles away. Yet 
the "impossible" happened; Bazaine, for all his ex- 
perience, fell into the trap already described, and that 
very third corps, which on the 15th should have been 
heading the retreat well along the Verdun road, was, 
on the evening of the 14th, bearing the brunt of a 
fierce battle east of Metz. Of course, this threw every- 



310 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

thing into confusion and occasioned a delay likely to 
prove costly; but the French still had hope. 

Lackaday! At cockcrow on the i6th, the first 
body of breathless Germans had arrived in sight of 
the army bivouacked on the Verdun road. At dawn 
they attacked, swarming up the heights and on to 
the plateau as far as Vionville. Though almost ex- 
hausted by forced marches, the men were desperate 
and, mistaking the French troops for the rear guard of 
an army which had escaped them, resolved to break 
through at any cost. They did not know they were 
outnumbered a hundred to one at first, nor would this 
have deterred them ; each new column, dead tired with 
fatigue, was rushed into action as soon as it arrived. 
The French fought fiercely, but the Germans were 
furious ; the only beaten German was a dead one, and 
it seemed as if for every one killed, two others ap- 
peared. 

When the main army with Prince Frederick Carl 
reached the spot, the battle spread westward to Mars- 
la-Tour and east to Rezonville, and all the fighting 
was on and around the road to Verdun over which 
Bazaine had fondly hoped to be marching. The 
crazed Germans even tried to force the enemy out of 
Rezonville, but this was like butting into a stone wall 
and had to be discontinued ; here they attacked French 
artillery and infantry with cavalry, but were beaten 
back and then cut to pieces by squadrons of French 
horse. 

Meantime, at Mars-la-Tour, bloody deeds were do- 
ing while the German loth corps and part of the 9th 
held their ground against a vastly superior force. To- 
wards evening six regiments of French cavalry 
swarmed around to turn their flank, but were routed 
by Prussian horse in the finest cavalry battle of the 
war. 

3" 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Night fell. There had been 138,000 French en- 
gaged and 76,000 Germans; the French lost 16,000 
men, the Germans about the same. The Germans 
were defeated, beaten back, overwhelmed in every- 
way except just one : their line stuck fast at Vionville 
and the road to Verdun was closed. 

East of the village of Gravelotte is a deep ravine, 
with a little stream running through it almost north 
and south. Bazaine withdrew his troops until they 
lined the heights east of this ravine, his right and left 
wings jutting forward at the strong positions of St. 
Marie — St. Privat, and of St. Germain — Rozereuilles 
(opposite Gravelotte). Meantime, the whole available 
German army, 230,000 strong, together with their 
commander-in-chief. King William I, had arrived to 
oppose Bazaine's force of 180,000 men. 

On the 1 8th of August the famous battle of Grave- 
lotte began. The Prussians had to cross that dread 
ravine east of the village. They did it, but at what 
fearful cost ! Whole regiments were wiped out ! Those 
peaceful farms of the eastern slope — we can call them 
by name, Point-du-Jour, Moscou, Leipzig, Montigny- 
la-Grange — what a strange harvest they yielded that 
day! And what a horrid rain fell upon them — 
drenched, as they were, in blood! Meanwhile the 
Saxons to the north had been doing bravely, driving 
in the French from St. Marie; and, at evening, they 
covered themselves with glory in storming the terrible 
heights of St. Privat, thus turning the enemy's right 
flank and winning the day. Bazaine was penned in — 
trapped beyond hope of succor. The right hand of 
France was useless, and the Germans were free to go 
about their bloody business and destroy what was left. 

Dear, dear ! how much grass has grown over those 
graves since then. How much wheat and oats and 

312 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

rye has grown on those again peaceful farms — and 
how much sweet-scented clover, in which the bees go 
humming. 

Many of the isolated graves have been moved to 
cemeteries, in Gravelotte and elsewhere; but you can 
still see graves and monuments on every side — about 
three thousand of them. As our car swooped down 
that bloody ravine, and up again, we could see, to our 
right, the monument of the Rhein Jager Battalion No. 
8 — situated in a beautiful spot where, each year, the 
memorial ceremonies are begun. 

In Gravelotte village we see memorial tablets on 
the houses, and, at a distance, the cemetery with its 
Hall of Fame. As we approach Rezonville, three 
monuments stand at the edge of the woods; in the 
village, more tablets on the houses. On the right- 
hand side of the road from Rezonville to Vionville 
are several common graves, in the biggest of which 
between two and three thousand men — French and 
German — lie buried. To the left, on the hills of Fla- 
vigny, six regimental monuments; at Vionville, more 
monuments to the right and left ; at Mars-la-Tour, the 
cemetery with many German graves and several Ger- 
man monuments and, near the railroad station, the 
fine French national monument surrounded by the 
graves of 10,000 men. But why continue the grue- 
some list ? 

Grain was growing in many fields; in others, peas- 
ants were plowing, and dodging scattered graves as 
they went along. A peaceful, rural scene ; but a strange 
business, this plowing and dodging graves. I have 
no doubt the ploughshare still turns up weapons or 
skulls. A strange business, and one to ponder on in 
these days of the futile peace-congress. Some day, 
perhaps a real peace-congress will take place ; perhaps, 

313 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

some day, even the French and the Germans will for- 
get their differences and say with Southey's "Little 
Peterkin," 

" 'But what good came of it at last?' 

Quoth little Peterkin. 
*Why, that I cannot tell/ said he ; 

'But 'twas a famous victory.' " 

At Vionville we stopped for the German douane and 
gave up our tag (number 8732) that had carried us 
through the Kaiser's realm. Scoffy nearly died laugh- 
ing at the official sign by the roadside. It displayed 
the words, "Halt Douane," divided into three syllables 
m a vertical row, and but for the restraining hand of 
Pater he might have carried out his intention of put- 
ting a circumflex accent over the last "a," which would 
have turned it into a German-French sentence mean- 
ing, "Stop! you ass!" 

The "dread" German official smiled at us very amia- 
bly. He chatted pleasantly for a while, and gave us 
advice about the road. Then he called out his wife 
and two pretty daughters, who also smiled upon us. 
He said he liked Americans. We admitted that we 
had a very soft spot in our hearts for Germany, as, 
indeed, we have had ever since. 

We were sorry to go. A wild idea of taking back 
our number and spending the few remaining days of 
our three weeks' license on German soil came to us, 
but eventually we braced up and said good-by. "Come 
back again, my friends," said the "crusty" official. 
"I certainly hope to see you again. In two years per- 
haps — yes ? But then you must come in over my road 
and not via Hamburg. We'll see that you are well 
taken care of in our old Deutschland." 

Honk, honk I and we were off. "Good-by, good-by ! 

314 













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VIONVILLE: GIVING UP THE GERMAN NUMBER TAG. (P. 314.) 




MARS - LA - tour: WAITING to snap the FRENCH poodle. (P. 318.) 



METZ AND ITS BATTLEFIELDS 

Lebt wohl!" he cried after us, standing- bareheaded 
in the road. The girls waved their handkerchiefs. 
A quarter of a mile away we looked back, to see them 
still waving their friendly God-speed. 

"Yes, yes ! farewell, that's the word," said Scoffy — 
"farewell; lebt wohl." We were all silent. Suddenly 
he began softly singing that sweet old German song 
"Abschied" (Farewell): 

"So leb' denn wohl, du stilles Haus, 
Ich zieh' betriibt von dir hinaus ; 
So leb' denn wohl, denn ich muss fort, 
Noch nicht bestimmt an welchen Ort." 

It just seemed appropriate and, as we went flashing 
by a monument that marked the border, we gave a 
last look at fast receding Deutschland, and all joined 
to answer him with the second verse : 

"So lebt denn wohl, ihr Freunde ihr, 

Ich ziehe traurig fort von hier, 
Und find' ich einst ein grossres Gliick, 

So denk' ich gern an Euch zuriick." 

The rhythm of that fine old song seemed to cling to 
us — seemed to chime into the hum of the motor, and 
to lurk and resound in the corners of the top. Long 
after we had entered the vast plains and poplar avenues 
of France we still seemed to hear its echo, and time and 
again we took it up and swelled the chorus. 



315 



BOOK III. 



^ Jf Usfjt ^crogg jFrance 



CHAPTER I. 



RHEIMS: VIA VERDUN, CLERMONT, AND 
SUIPPES. 

July 6th — no miles (from metz). 

FRANCE— /a belle France— at last! How dif- 
ferent everything seems almost as soon as the 
border is crossed. A great tree-lined road 
stretches ahead for miles without a break; vast grain- 
fields lie on either hand; and, in the distance, a wind- 
ing brook is lined with symmetrical poplar trees in 
place of the picturesque willows, maples, lindens, or 
what not, of Germany. 

A soldier in a floppy uniform of red trousers, brown 
gaiters and short blue jacket, springs out into the road 
and motions for us to stop. The cluster of plain, one- 
story stucco houses of dirty yellow color and a douane 
sign, shows we have arrived at Mars-la-Tour, the 
French customs station. Pater nerves himself for his 
ordeal and enters a house to interview the official in 
charge. Volleys of French come crackling through 
the open window, and we hear the slow booming of 
Pater's voice as he stands by his guns unabashed. 

317 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Meantime a black poodle, trimmed in finest topiary 
fashion, runs up to bark at us. Mater, who is very 
fond of dogs, tries to make friends with him in order 
to take his picture ; but her French must be very poor, 
for the poodle runs away. The official's wife now 
comes forward to greet Mater, and they have a long 
chat. We are all much mystified until it comes to 
light that Mater, having learned a thing or two about 
the border, is calmly talking German. 

What with the triptyques of the Touring Club of 
France and his native ingenuity, Pater reappears, dizzy 
but triumphant. The customs officer follows to in- 
spect the baggage, but soon forgets this duty in the 
pleasure of sticking his nose into the machinery of 
our car while Bobby is fussing over the motor. As 
soon as Bobbie is ready we say good-by. 

Peasants in long, loose, blue blouses come driving 
by, and even the horses have to submit to a change in 
the fashions and wear big fur collars which, while they 
may be very soft, look extremely warm for summer 
use. The road is lined with kilometre and decametre 
stones. We had found the kilometre and mile-stones 
on the main roads of Germany of some assistance, but 
there were no hundred-metre stones. In France, you 
can absolutely depend upon these marked stones for all 
main routes and many secondary roads and, if you 
memorize the names of the principal towns ahead, you 
need not look at a map. In Germany, we relied upon 
the fact that streets in cities, towns and villages, were 
almost invariably named after the highways to which 
they led; that the highway (chaussee) was named 
after the town or city to which it led; and that there 
were excellent signposts at every crossroad. In 
France, we relied on the kilometre stones and on the 
fact that the entrance and the exit of each town had a 

318 



VERDUN; CLERMONT, SUIPPES, RHEIMS 

big white-on-blue sign giving the name of the place, 
the name of the department, and the name (with a di- 
recting arrow) of the next town, as well as its distance 
away. Such signs are usually to be found on the 
walls of houses. 

I wish to impress upon the reader's mind the fact 
that we were not fair-weather and good-road travelers. 
Some motorists pick out main routes and good roads 
and then tell exultingly of a trip without puncture or 
breakdown. Our idea of motoring was not that we 
could go wherever good roads permitted, but rather 
that, having an automobile, we could go everywhere 
(within reason) we wished to go. So we soon dis- 
covered that while France may have some of the best 
roads in the world, she also has, so far as motor travel 
is concerned, the very worst. You will readily sur- 
mise that I refer to the chemins paves, the roads paved 
with Belgian blocks. They say that for strangers to 
enter Paris in a motorcar is a nerve-racking, axle- 
breaking experience; and if you wander through the 
country without carefully planning your route to avoid 
pave, you are almost certain to strike many of these 
terrible, paved roads which make you wish you had 
never started. In Holland the paved roads are finer 
than the best French roads, for their brick-on-edge 
gives a dustless, easy-riding, nonskidding surface. 
In Germany, the paved roads of flat stones set to a 
level are very good, except that they lack the nonskid 
quality of the brick. But of the paved roads of France 
I can only say, heaven help you! lest your angry pas- 
sions lead you to "damnation." 

German railroad crossings are usually provided 
with the cantilever gates we know so well in America ; 
all grade crossings being guarded, as is customary in 
European countries. Some of the gatekeepers in Ger- 

319 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

many are women, and it is amusing to see them (men 
and women alike) stand at attention while a train 
goes by. In France, many keepers are women; here 
ihey use the rolling gate and generally keep it closed — 
which, though addmg to the traveler's safety, is a 
source of vexation to the motorist who must wait until, 
after continued honking, a woman meanders out and, 
with great deliberation, rolls the two gates aside. 

Riding through the uplands we could see forts in 
the distance. It is evident that France has detennined 
never to be caught napping again. Beyond Pinthe- 
ville we passed close to the chateau and fort d'Ekin- 
vrette; at Haudiomont another fort lay south of us; 
and as we went up the great ridge near Verdun we 
passed between forts Rozellier and Haudainville, 
which belong to the ring of more than a dozen forts 
surrounding this town. Fine, modern forts — scarcely 
discernible save for a flagstaff and a glimpse of earth- 
works. From the heights we had a splendid view of 
the surrounding country, through which the river 
Meuse (German, Maas) goes winding on its way to 
Verdun. 

At Verdun, luncheon was taken at the Hotel Trois 
Maures, a third-rate house though heading the list. 
However, we had the usual fun criticising the place. 
Scoffy caused some laughter by inquiring whether the 
time displayed were "vrai" instead of asking whether 
it were juste. But he established the fact that we had 
changed from German to French time, and were con- 
sequently an hour to the good. At an adjoining table 
a betrothal was being celebrated, and the proud air of 
proprietorship with which the hero of the hour, a 
young soldier, kept his arm around the waist of his 
fiancee, caused us to alternate from chuckles of amuse- 

320 



VERDUN, CLERMONT, SUIPPES, RHEIMS 

ment to smiles of sympathy with such an ingenuous 
display of bliss. 

Verdun was the Roman Virodunum. Here, in 843, 
Lothaire, Ludwig the German, and Charles the Bald — 
grandsons of Charlemagne — divided his great empire. 
Verdun went to Germany, but shared the fate of Metz ; 
at the close of the Franco-Prussian war, during which 
it was captured after a stubborn defense of three 
weeks, Verdun was returned to France. 

Passing over the Meuse bridge, Bobbie drove near 
the cathedral, the bishop's palace and the citadel, and, 
going out through the ring of forts, headed for St. 
Menehould on the Aisne. Part of our way lay along 
the pretty little Wadelincourt river, which we crossed 
several times, while at Vraincourt — just outside of 
Clermont — we crossed the Aire. St. Menehould has 
preserved an old church and part of the old town 
walls. It was at a posting-house, here, that Drouet 
recognized the hapless Louis XVI fleeing from France 
in 1 79 1. The king and his family were arrested at 
Varennes, eight miles north of Clermont. Our road 
from Clermont to St. Menehould traversed the forest 
of Argonne and took us from the department of Meuse 
into that of Marne. Meuse, as you may well imagine, 
is part of old Lorraine; Marne, once Champagne, has 
conferred its ancient name on the products of its vine- 
yards. 

Shortly after turning off the Chalons road our route 
led through Valmy where, in 1 792, the allies under the 
duke of Brunswick were defeated by the French under 
Kellermann and Dumuriez. South of the village, a 
pyramid marking the battlefield contains Kellermann's 
heart. A romantic but rather antiquated idea, this 
glorification of the heart ; they might better have paid 
these high honors to the heads of the parties concerned, 

321 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

since, whichever way the heart was incHned, it was 
the brains that brought victory. The duke command- 
ing the alHes was one of those fighting Brunswickers 
whose coffins we saw in the cathedral crypt at Braun- 
schweig. 

We now pass a "family" of Sommes, each named 
after its river:. Somme-Bionne, Somme-Tourbe, 
Somme-Suippe. Many names are duplicated among 
French towns, so the traveler is cautioned to be careful 
and explicit. On the vast plain between Suippes and 
Chalons-sur-Marne — still used for military maneuvers 
— Attila and his Huns were defeated (A. D. 451) by 
the Roman governor with the valuable assistance of 
Franks, Goths, and Burgundians. Some historians 
claim that though Attila threatened Chalons, the battle 
really took place near Troyes. Beyond Suippes we 
reached Jonchery-sur-Suippe ; there is another Jon- 
chery in Marne. Crossing the river Suippe brings us 
to St. Hilaire-le-Grand ; there are at least five other 
St. Hilaires, two of them ("le-petit" and "au-Tem- 
ple") within a radius of ten miles of "le-Grand." 
Marne is plentifully speckled with Sommes. In north- 
ern France alone, there are more than six different St. 
Germains and St. Jeans, and more than eight St. 
Pierres. 

Beyond St. Hilaire-le-Grand we crossed the Suippe 
again, then swung into a Roman road with a fine, 
broad French roadbed which stretched away straight 
ss a die for about twenty miles; this combination was 
too much for Pater and the "speed-bug bit him." 

"Bobbie, I reckon the next stop is Rheims," quoth 
he, casting a calculating glance ahead. Up, up, went 
the needle till it registered fifty miles an hour; our 
odometer was graduated no higher, but we guessed the 
rest by the whistle of the wind. The towers of Rheims 

322 



VERDUN, CLERMONT, SUIPPES, RHEIMS 

cathedral loomed up, and came nearer with a rush; 
passing into the ring of forts encircling Rheims, Bob- 
bie slowed down for a railroad crossing and we all 
heaved a sigh of exaltation and — relief. 

"That was bully," said Scoffy, "but if one of those 
front tires had gone, where would 'little Willy' have 
been when the car got through turning somersaults?" 

"Yes, yes," chimed in the others, "that was all very 
fine, but " 

Pater grinned, and admitted the premises though he 
failed to voice the conclusion. However, he promised 
to be good forevermore. 

Hardly was this discussion concluded when the car 
was rolling past "whole caves of Pommery," as Scoffy 
remarked, and after traversing the boulevard for a 
bit, was threading a narrow street towards the Lion 
d'Or in the cathedral's shadow. 

Rheims is well known to most people from child- 
hood; if not though Joan of Arc, at least through its 
fabled jackdaw. This ancient Durocortorum, capital 
of the Remi and of almost-German Austrasia, was 
Christianized as early as the third century; perhaps 
on this account the Remi were immortalized in the 
city's modern name, and the affliction of the earlier 
"tongue-twister" happily averted. Some people main- 
tain that "Ranee" with the proper nasal intonation is 
a worse infliction, but then, one may always fall back 
upon the poetic German pronunciation and speak of 
the cathedral of "Rhymes." How much more appro- 
priate this sounds for that gray, old, storied edifice; 
how suggestive of the history, parables, and personifi- 
cations displayed by the multitude of sculptured figures 
which turn its exterior into an immense open book for 
all to puzzle out and enjoy. 

Both architecturally and historically Notre Dame de 

323 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Rheims is one of the world's most famous churches. 
Its seven lofty spires were destroyed by fire in 1480. 
The nave has a single aisle on each side ; the choir has 
a fine ambulatory with radiating chapels, forming the 
chevet so typical of French cathedrals. The west fa- 
cade is splendid; the sides and the back of the edifice, 
with their walls of glass and their graceful flying but- 
tresses adorned with curious gargoyles, are a source of 
never-ceasing wonder to travelers from a land rich in 
money, but still poor in some of the marvels money 
may produce in conjunction with love of art. 

From our hotel we could see the huge west front, 
impressive even though largely obscured by scaffold- 
ing. Nearly all the famous churches we saw in our 
travels had more or less restoration or renovation 
going on; no doubt this was necessary, but it seemed 
a pity, and we fervently hoped some of the artistic 
skill, local pride, and intense religious zeal that 
spurred on those old artisans and lent marvelous cun- 
ning to their chisels might, in some miraculous man- 
ner, inspire the unimaginative modern workmen. 

In the interior of the church, soft light shining 
through the fine thirteenth century glass makes one 
cry out against the white light streaming in, through 
clear glass, where old windows had been destroyed. 
The walls are hung with interesting paintings and 
tapestries, but our view of these was rather hasty, as 
funeral services were about to take place. We saw 
the funeral procession enter the square; the cross was 
carried at its head, and there was what Scofify calls an 
"open-faced" hearse (one without glass) preceded by 
choir boys and followed by the mourners, afoot. The 
whole proceeding was much more dignified in aspect 
than our usual line of hurrying carriages. 

Since any further view of the interior seemed out 
324 



VERDUN, CLERMONT, SUIPPES, RHEIMS 

of the question, we asked a guide to take us up into a 
cathedral tower. At the level of the clerestory he 
paused and led us upon a little gallery inside the west- 
ern end of the nave. Gazing down upon the solemn 
scene in that vast enclosure where the mourners looked 
like pigmies, while the choir chanted a requiem and 
the organ rolled and boomed echoes from the vaulted 
roof, we stood spellbound at its impressiveness. Then 
we emerged into the open air to make a tour around 
the roofs, midway between heaven and earth; getting 
intimately acquainted with the fantastic beasts upon 
the buttresses; traversing musty attic spaces between 
roof and nave-vaulting to see the ancient timber 
trusses ; and entering a bell-tower to hear the giant bell 
strike beneath our feet with a reverberation that 
threatened to tumble us over. I think the ladies — 
though they wouldn't for the world have missed it — 
were glad to set foot again on the town square, where 
Dubois' Joan of Arc holds aloft her sword and leads 
her endless charge to victory. 

Clovis, king of the Franks, had sworn to embrace 
the faith of his wife Clothilde if a victory over the 
Alemanni were granted him ; accordingly, he and three 
thousand of his victorious army were baptized at 
Rheims on Christmas Day, 496. Personally, "it 
didn't take" — as they say of vaccination — but the royal 
sanction and protection it gave to the cause of Chris- 
tianity was a great stride for the good. At bottom, 
Christianity was not without its severely practical con- 
siderations in those days; the sainted Remigius, who 
baptized Clovis, is said to have stretched the king's 
gift of land for an abbey at Rheims to the utmost 
limit. Its boundary was to be commensurate with 
the extent of the holy man's travels in a specified time, 
and all who impeded his progress or questioned his 

325 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

right were very brusquely treated; a string of maledic- 
tions — ranging from one which caused a bold lord's 
woods to wither, to that which made a stubborn mil- 
ler's wheel rise a hopeless distance from the water — 
marked the wake of fiery St. Remi laying out his 
boundaries. 

His last resting place is in the abbey he prayed and 
quarreled for — in its church, which, though rebuilt in 
the twelfth century, still antedates the cathedral by a 
hundred years. The abbey itself is now a hotel Dieu 
(hospital), the cloisters are a museum; but in the 
church, the saint's memory is honored by an elaborate 
Renaissance tomb guarded by ancient marble statues 
of the twelve peers of France. For when Remi bap- 
tized Clovis a dove brought consecrated oil from 
heaven, with which nearly all kings of France, since 
Hugh Capet, have been annointed at their coronation 
in Rheims cathedral. The coronation banquet hall, 
with its fine mantel and old tapestries and timbered 
ceiling, is in the bishop's palace south of the cathedral. 
Probably no glad celebration there ever equalled the 
popular joy at Rheims' most famous coronation — that 
of Charles VH, in 1429 — made possible by a peasant 
girl of Domremy. 

The venerable church of St. Remi, with its con- 
glomerate additions of later dates and styles, is not 
the city's oldest structure : the Porte de Mars, a Roman 
triumphal arch, is said to date from the fourth cen- 
tury and, despite the demolition of its superstructure, 
it displays a deal of fine car\nng. Reflections upon its 
antiquity made us feel the more satisfied to be living 
in modern times. 

The Lion d'Or was very comfortable. Dining out- 
doors in the courtyard proved, as always, much to our 
taste. Scenting a diversion in the "American Bar," 

326 



VERDUN, CLERMONT, SUIPPES, RHEIMS 

we proceeded to inspect it and found a well-fitted es- 
tablishment with nothing lacking except — of all 
things ! — whiskey, that staple drink and foundation of 
so many fancy mixtures. Discovery of the deficiency 
threw Scoffy into such a fit of chuckles that we began 
to seriously regret the absence of this "first aid to the 
injured," but he finally regained enough composure to 
walk off, murmuring, "It is to rire! It is to rireT 

The beds at this hotel were very comfortable, but 
were "made up" so high that Pater advised sending 
for a stepladder, and the Youth advocated a spring- 
board for diving into the feathers. Nor were modern 
bathrooms lacking. In fact, they had automatic 
water-heaters which acted with such promptness and 
vigor that we were much distressed at the prospect of 
either being parboiled or going unwashed. 



327 



CHAPTER 11. 

AMIENS: VIA SOISSONS, COUCY-LE-CHA- 
TEAU, AND NO YON. 

JULY 7TH — 92 MILES. 

SHORTLY after nine in the morning we left 
Rheims, on the Paris road. Despite Mater's 
wistful glances at the sign "Paris" the car 
soon swung right, and followed the Vesle val- 
ley toward Fismes, a town dating back to Roman 
times. About two and a half miles beyond Fismes 
we crossed into the department of Aisne (which 
comprises parts of Picardy, Brie, and Ile-de-France) 
and, simultaneously, the road changed into the 
worst encountered during our entire trip. It was 
paved with granite blocks worn almost round on top, 
and the violent jarring threatened not only to loosen 
every nut in the car, but all our teeth as well. To sup- 
plement our maps, the Youth had purchased a carte 
Taride which we were using in preference to anything 
else since it was of recent date and at a large scale ; on 
it, this road was shown as a "grande" automobile 
route and marked with the double dash of trottoirs 
practicahles without any M. P. (mauvais pave) or 
anything else, to warn us. In the hope that it might 
improve we kept on but, from a hill, we saw it stretch- 
ing away, unchanged, for miles ; then we sought relief 
by taking to the track some victims had worn along- 
side the pavement, but this rose and fell over two-foot 

329 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

and three-foot mounds, making the car sway Hke a 
ship at sea. 

There was no use in going back, as half the dis- 
tance was already accomplished. At the village of 
Courcelles, a cart-track on the left gave promise of 
escape, for it led to a secondary road entering Braisne 
from the southeast; but our hopes were dashed by a 
warning sign that the bridge across the Vesle was dan- 
gerous for heavy vehicles, so we were obliged to endure 
the agony to the end. We are wiser now; motorists 
should branch off southward on a good secondary road 
three and a half miles beyond Fismes; then they will 
not only avoid nearly all the pave but will also see the 
old fortified town of Bazoches and its feudal castle. 

It was hard to picture the dull village of Braisne as 
a former residence of Merovingian kings. Anyone 
would pass it by without a suspicion of fallen gran- 
deur, but for the positively startling sight of a fine 
Gothic church (St. Yved, once part of a noted abbey) 
rising in solitary state amid these commonplace sur- 
roundings. 

Two more short stretches of pave were encountered 
before reaching the one-time fortress of Soissons. In 
486, Clovis defeated the Roman army here and Sois- 
sons became the Frankish capital of Neustria. It is a 
town of abbeys, there being no less than four. As we 
approached, the fine spires of St. Jean des Vignes 
loomed up against the sky. With the exception of 
the cloisters, this is about all remaining of the abbey 
where Thomas a Becket sojourned for nine years. A 
very impressive sight — these two , fine towers with 
spires, rising nearly 250 feet high; and, silhouetted 
against the sky between them, the great portal and a 
single arch and window of the nave. We had seen 
churches minus their towers and spires, and churches 

330 



SOISSONS, COUCY, NOYON, AMIENS 

with their towers separate; but this was the only in- 
stance we met, of coupled towers standing alone in 
solitary grandeur, and I think it will stick in our 
memories as long as anything we saw. There is a 
peculiar fascination about seeing the sky through 
openings in the wall of a building; perhaps much of 
the charm of old ruins may be attributed to this, and, 
so far as completed structures go, we found a striking 
example, next day, when gazing up at the towers of 
Amiens cathedral. 

Near the suburb of St. Waast is St. Medard, with 
scant remains of the world-famous abbey where Abel- 
ard was confined and where Louis le Debonnaire (the 
Pious) was imprisoned by his sons, in the dim long- 
ago. 

Though there is an interesting old cathedral to in- 
spect we did not enter the tortuous streets of Soissons, 
but turned north through its outskirts toward Coucy; 
some four miles out, the road ascended a hill, and thus, 
even before crossing the river Lette and the canal from 
the Oise to the Aisne, we had a distant glimpse of the 
chateau's great towers. 

Coucy-le-Chateau (as distinguished from Coucy- 
la-Ville) is one of those enormous castle-fortresses for 
which France is noted and which she owes to the 
development of military engineering, a science in which 
she excelled as early as the days of William the Nor- 
man — when England was comparatively uncivilized, 
for all its good hearts and true. The chateau, built 
early in the thirteenth century, alone covers an area of 
more than two acres, and an extension of the walls 
incloses a little town all its own. Crowning a hill 
almost inaccessible on three sides, it had, besides the 
finest donjon in the world (a tower 210 feet high and 
100 feet in diameter, with walls 34 feet thick), four 

331 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

huge supplementary towers and dozens of wall towers. 
Little wonder the possessor of such a fortress should 
display the boastful motto: "Roi ne suys, ne prince, 
ne due, ne compte aussi; je suys le sire de Coucy." 

At the foot of the castle hill, the question arose could 
the car climb the zigzag road to the southern gate? 
Pater thought not, and ascended afoot by a short cut; 
but Bobbie was confident and, sure enough, our 
Packard made it easily — rolling across the town's 
market place and winding through several narrow 
archways and alleys to the castle gate. 

A voluble guide almost smothered us with his flow 
of French but, noticing that the crescendo of his ges- 
tures and an excited nudging of the person nearest at 
hand (be it man, woman or child) marked the an- 
nouncement of interesting and important information, 
we managed to get at the main facts of his discourse 
without much trouble. Such a thrilling place as it 
was ! Oubliettes five stories deep underground, secret 
passages, bottomless pits, places we could not explore 
because of the danger, others that never had been ex- 
plored! Kitchens with ovens still extant; sculleries, 
granaries, and the like; remnants of great halls and 
apartments, upstairs, to be seen only from below — 
with much craning of necks; chambers in the wall, 
oratories and recessed window seats; chapels with 
fragments of color decoration still visible on the vault- 
ing, and so on. Then there was the secret chamber 
which hid the love affairs of a lord of Coucy and, 
later, of Louis of Orleans; and, finally, the great 
donjon with its well — whose depth the guide probed 
with a burning paper — and its beautiful outlook, en- 
joyed only after ascending to the roof by hundreds of 
stone steps built into the very wall. 

Everything is pretty well in ruins; Mazarin dis- 




/ f J i 



RHEIMS: A FRENCH FUNERAL. (P. 324.) 




COUCY - LE - chateau: " CROWNING A HILL ALMOST INAC- 
CESSIBLE ON THREE SIDES." (P. 33 1.) 



SOISSONS, COUCY, NOYON, AMIENS 

mantled the place and had his way with most of it ex- 
cept the donjon tower. The thirty tons of gunpow- 
der he buried on the ground floor merely blew out the 
intermediate floors and the roof, and made only one 
serious crack in the masonry. But he formed the big- 
gest cannon ever fired — and that was something, if he 
wasn't too greatly chagrined to think of this. 

From Coucy our road led westward, again crossing 
the Lette and the canal, through Guny and Bleran- 
court into the department of Oise, which is formed of 
sections of Picardy and lle-de-France. 

Beyond Pontoise (not the famous one) we crossed 
the Oise and were soon rattling over the pave into 
Noyon which, though small, is a very famous town; 
here Calvin was born, Chilperic was buried, Charle- 
magne was crowned king of the Franks, and Hugh 
Capet — king of France. 

Sixteen miles south of Noyon stands the huge 
chateau Pierrefonds, built by Louis of Orleans who 
once owned Coucy, its virtual prototype. Pierrefonds, 
completely restored in 1879 under the direction of 
Viollet-le-Duc, is highly interesting to tourists. That 
we passed it by as too far off our road — as we had 
Celle, Hanover, the towns northeast of the Harz, 
Merseburg, and other places — will impress you with 
the advantages of touring from centers. 

French roads were becoming something of a night- 
mare; pick up a large-scale map of northern France 
with the countless spots of paved road dotted all over 
it, and you will realize that motoring at will through 
the country is not what you expected. Most roads 
into Paris are distinctly marked "impracticable pour 
automobiles" (impassable for automobiles). Even a 
poor country road is better; and a sand road, for all 
its terrible strain on the wheel, is preferable. The 

333 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

pave of France and the narrow high-hedged, winding 
roads of England will make Germany a favorite mo- 
toring country of the future. 

From Noyon to Roye there were two spots of paved 
road on the m.ap, both marked practicable (passable) 
except for a mile or so. But "once bitten, twice shy" 
was our attitude, so we made a detour via Suzoy, 
Dives and Lassigny. Beyond Crapeaumesnil we 
passed out of Oise into the Somme department, which 
is the bulk of Picardy with a little of Artois. 

Regular luncheon was skipped in the hope of mak- 
ing a quick run to Amiens. Near Coucy we stopped 
at a village bakery, but the result was not very grati- 
fying; off the beaten track, French pastry gets as un- 
speakably bad as French roads, and we could scarcely 
eat the stuff we had purchased. As time passed, the 
pangs of hunger began to assail us; at Lassigny and 
Roye we made a tour of the market place in search of 
a promising hostelry, but gave up the task. Alas, that 
Germany lay behind us ! There — great or lowly — you 
are expected to eat well and drink well. 

Roye does a big business in grain raised on the 
fertile Santerre plains. After leaving Roye, on the 
fine road to Amiens, we saw nothing but grainfields. 
There were no towns on the way, no farmhouses, no 
cattle, no workmen in the fields; nothing but solitude 
and — grain. Indeed, the vast grainfields of northern 
France were a revelation ; but that we knew our own 
western states so well, we might have thought this the 
world's granary. 

With a fine straight road for mites ahead, we saw 
ourselves safe and sound in Amiens ere long. Never 
count on your tires until you are home. Bang! went 
a blowout, and Amiens still ten miles away. Now we 
were in for it ; the shoe was ruined and we were short 

334 



SOISSONS, COUCY, NOYON, AMIENS 

of shoes. Pater swore he would cable to New York 
at once for shoes and tubes to be sent to London, but 
this helped little enough, out among French grain- 
fields. We had hoped to buy Michelins abroad, but 
Continental Michelin tires were very different from 
American Michelins. In desperation, Bobbie tried to 
put a front shoe on the rear wheel, hoping that, with 
careful driving, it might carry us into the city ; it took 
three of us an hour and a quarter to get it on, but after 
pinching a good inner tube to pieces, it had to come 
off again. 

We felt very sorry for Bobbie. As far as we were 
concerned, the stop gave us the privilege of getting 
acquainted with French shepherd dogs, an opportunity 
we should otherwise have missed. You may boast all 
you like about your Scotch collies and English sheep 
dogs ; I never saw one that could hold a candle to the 
French shepherd dog. In Scotland and England it 
means a loss of from two to five minutes, at least, 
when you meet a flock of sheep. In France, dogs 
keep the flock in long, narrow formation that leaves 
a clear passage, and you may go whizzing by with- 
out realizing their presence. The shepherd gener- 
ally has three dogs; one, padding up and down 
on each side of their charges. Should a sheep so 
much as stick its head too far out of line, the dog 
comes growling up and pushes it back; should one 
try to run away, a dog darts out like lightning, trips 
up the animal and then drives it back again. The 
shepherd's third dog is on a leash; when many sheep 
start to follow a runaway, or when turning a corner 
or any special emergency makes it necessary, the third 
dog is released and the trouble soon remedied. Thus 
sheep may graze by the roadside without the slightest 
danger to the unfenced fields, and when he wishes to 

335 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

move the flock, the shepherd need only give a sharp 
command to his dogs. 

Three hours passed before we got mider way again, 
and we rolled into Amiens after dark, with our lamps 
lit for the first time. 

There was some trouble in locating the Hotel du 
Rhin owing to its having two entrances — one to its 
courtyard and garage on the Rue Noyon, the other on 
the square. Of course we finalh' reached the wrong 
one but, as the hour was late, Bobbie was permitted 
to drive into the covered way in front of the office. The 
place was crowded with motors, many of them out in 
the court3'ard; when it began to rain the}- en\'ied us 
our choice position and tried to crowd in upon us. one 
coming perilously near. Bobbie was up in arms at 
once, but as the offender drove a Rochet-Schneider 
(the first Belgian car we had seen) he was soon for- 
given — or, at least, forgotten — in the inspection of 
chassis and tonneau. 

In ancient days Amiens was Samarobriva, capital of 
the Ambiani. The early introduction of Christianity 
with its ban on unnecessary cruelty, no doubt again 
spared us the ancient name. In 1802, the peace of 
Amiens (between France, England, Spain and Hol- 
land) was signed here in the hotel de villc, a building 
otherwise uninteresting owing to its recent and com- 
plete reconstruction. The Germans took the town, in 
1870, after a series of battles in the vicinity. 

Amiens' early history as capital of Picardy, and 
neighbor and foe of Normandy, is well known; at 
present it is the capital of the department of Somme, 
and a large, lively manufacturing town splendidly 
situated, so far as water highways are concerned, on 
that part of the Somme where the Avre, the x\ncre, 
the Noye, and the Selle flow into it. 

336 



SOISSONS, COUCY, NOYON, AMIENS 

The Musee de Picardie has fine collections of pic- 
tures and antiquities, if such be of interest to you. The 
churches of St. Remi and St. Germain, the Beffroi 
(belfry), and the hotel Morgan — a fifteenth century 
mansion — are all worth a look. But generally speak- 
ing, the stranger has no right to devote time to any- 
thing but the glorious cathedral whose fagade excels, 
alike, the two, set stories of St. Paul's, in London, and 
the poor palace-front of St. Peter's in Rome. 

Baedeker "double stars" the cathedral at Rheims 
while that at Amiens has to make shift with but a sin- 
gle asterisk; I suppose one may assume this as the 
German view and, since Baedeker fortifies his position 
by quotations from Fergusson, it may be the English 
view as well. I feel no misgivings, however, in assert- 
ing that, so far as American ideas are concerned, 
Amiens should be triple starred, at the very least. 

The German complains that the towers are inade- 
quate, and from one distant southwest view this ob- 
jection may be true; but Amiens does not suffer for 
lack of spires, whereas Rheims most surely does; he 
complains that the side of Amiens lacks height, but 
this is due to the horizontal band of chapels built in 
between the buttresses — not to a defect in original 
design ; if Rheims escaped those, it is merely a fortu- 
nate incident. Then he complains of the heaviness of 
the building. But this is just the point, mein Herr; it 
is the presence of a few plain wall surfaces which en- 
hances the effect of the ornament and gives the inde- 
finable suggestion of simplicity, purity, and dignity 
that makes Amiens the queen of churches. And it is 
the frittering away of many strong lines that makes 
Rheims approach so near the sort of thing we call 
"gingerbread" — appropriate in lace or confectionery, 
but too much of a tour de force in stone, Surely 

337 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

Rheims is beautiful enough — impressive enough, to 
forego this claim to being the acme of Gothic art. 

As to the interior of Amiens, there probably is but 
one opinion. Says Professor A. D. F. Hamlin in his 
"History of Architecture" : "The triforium was no 
longer a gallery, but a richly arcaded passage in the 
wall. * * * * Nearly the whole space above it 
was occupied in each bay by the vast clearstory win- 
dow filled with simple but effective geometrical trac- 
ery over slender mullions. The side aisles were 
lighted by windows which, like those in the clearstory, 
occupied nearly the whole available wall-space under 
the vaulting. The piers and shafts were all clustered 
and remarkably slender. The whole construction of 
this vast edifice, which covers nearly eighty thousand 
square feet, is a marvel of lightness, of scientific com- 
binations, and of fine execution. Its great vault rises 
to a height of one hundred and forty feet. * * * 
Earlier cathedrals show less of the harmony of pro- 
portion, the perfect working out of the relation of all 
parts of the composition of each bay, so conspicuous 
in the Amiens type, which was followed by most of 
the later churches." 

Amiens is built in the style called Rayonnante, 
which comes between the early French Gothic and the 
later Flamboyant form, and corresponds to England's 
Decorated style. This church is the biggest, boldest, 
most dignified work of French cathedral-builders and, 
withal, the finest. For, finer than the extreme orna- 
mentation of Rheims, than the complexity of Cologne 
and Strassburg, than the severity of Paris, than the 
flamboyancy of Rouen and York, or the crudeness of 
Salisbury and Durham, stands the church of Our Lady 
of Amiens — the most beautiful church in the world. 

Even Baedeker admits the magnificence of its exte- 
338 




AMIEXS cathedral: " THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CHURCH IN THE WORLD. 

{P- 338.) 



SOISSONS, COUCY, NOYON, AMIENS 

rior sculpture on both front and sides, and bows his 
head before the Beau Dieu d' Amiens who graces the 
middle mullion of the west fagade's central doorway. 

It is only fair that the French should be permitted an 
opinion in a matter concerning them so closely. Edou- 
ard Corroyer, in his "L'Architecture Gothique," states ; 
"The cathedral of Amiens, begun about 1220, one of 
the largest cathedrals of the period termed Gothic, and 
the one which is known as its masterpiece, grows 
directly out of Rheims." 

It has become fashionable to "rave" about Amiens 
cathedral. Reams of paper and a great flow of 
language have been expended upon it. Indeed, travel 
books are growing more effusive every year; plain 
English has no longer any place in them. Do not let 
their extravagant utterances lead you to overrate mat- 
ters that, after all, depend solely upon your own 
special interest and individual taste. Cull out facts, 
select the places most highly recommended and note 
the ways to reach these ; for thus, only, will you read 
such books with profit and without eventual disap- 
pointment. 

Once the cathedral had been duly admired, and the 
purchase of the ever essential postcards and photo- 
graphs completed, there was nothing to hold us in 
Amiens. For the sake of such poor French as he 
knew, Scoffy was inveigled into a shopping expedition ; 
this duty he performed, though not with high honors. 
Pater was much amused at the story, but we soon had 
a laugh at his expense. Although the portier had 
given elaborate instructions as to the best route out of 
town, we got confused among the parklike boulevards 
and had to stop for information. Pater summoned 
his best French, — 

339 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

"Pardon, monsieur, voulez-vous me dire, s'il vous 
plait, ou est le chemin a Boulogne?" 

Monsieur considered for a moment, then replied in 
perfect English, "I think, if you follow the street be- 
hind you as far as the square and then turn to the left, 
you will be on the direct road." 



340 



CHAPTER III. 
AMIENS TO BOULOGNE-SUR-MER. 

JULY 8th 76 MILES. 

BOBBIE drove us via Picquigny — Abbeville. 
There is a shorter road to Montreuil but, 
as there was ample time to catch the three 
o'clock boat from Boulogne, the best-looking road 
was chosen. Had we noticed that the short cut led 
through the battlefield of Crecy, where Edward III 
of England defeated Philip of Valois, this route 
might have been the one selected. We have since 
been sorry to have missed a view of the field where 
old, blind King Johann of Bohemia was slain, and 
where the Black Prince, as victor, assumed the 
king's crest — those famous three feathers with the 
motto, Ich Dien."^ Surely this crest has never been 
more gallantly borne than by old King John who, when 
the battle went against his allies, had his reins lashed 
to those of two knights and rode to his death in the 
fight. 

Shortly after leaving Amiens a crack appeared in 
one of the wrought-iron uprights supporting the car's 
top; as it could be discerned only while the car was 
moving, Bobbie would never have made the discovery. 
Investigation showed that the three-quarter inch bar 
was snapped off like a pipestem; the pave of our 

* — This origin of the Prince of Wales' crest has lately been 
disputed. 

341 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

previous day had done mischief after all, and we 
were fortunate to have so quickly seen the break, for 
a bad bit of road might have overtaxed the right-hand 
iron and precipitated the roof, with its heavy baggage, 
upon our heads. Pater had long objected to the amount 
of this baggage, declaring, "When you reach your 
trunks, in London, fully half of it must be put away." 
But this proved hard to do — especially for Scoffy, 
despite the levity with which he offered to take only a 
toothbrush and a box of collars. 

The immediate need was a blacksmith to repair the 
damage, and, at Ailly-sur-Somme, we paused to seek 
one. Had our vocabulary been as extensive as our 
baggage, we might have had a smith for the asking; 
but a summary of the polite French we had learned, 
from "Will the good landady's pretty daughter give us 
some nice fresh milk" to "When does the next train 
leave for Paris/' failed to produce the name of so 
"rude" and "useless" a person. Though Scoffy tim- 
idly murmured we wished to be conducted to a forge 
(smithy) and this was replete with suggestion — no 
light dawned upon the willing shoemaker, whom we 
were interrogating, until we showed him the broken 
rod; thereupon he promptly removed his apron, 
climbed on our step, and conducted us to the object of 
our desires. The shop was prominently marked 
''Marechalerie et Ferronerie," and that is one thing 
we shall never forget. "Oh, fudge!" said the Youth, 
"I never would have had the cheek to guess that a 
marshal could be a farrier." 

At Picquigny, Bobbie crossed to the north bank of 
the Somme, and at Mouflers he passed I'Etoile cross- 
road which leads to the finest Roman camp in France. 
Besides Etoile, impending rain lost us Pont Remy 
— this side of Abbeville — whose castle, through com- 

342 



AMIENS TO BOULOGNE-SUR-MER 

manding a crossing of the Somme, played an important 
part in the Hundred Years' War. Northward, the 
Pont Remy road leads to St. Riquier, site of a famous 
abbey of this name patronized by Dagobert and Charle- 
magne, but now represented only by a handsome Gothic 
church. 

Abbeville is indeed historic; sharing the fortunes of 
much disputed Normandy, the town is said to have 
been in English hands the better part of two hundred 
years. Here, Mary Tudor was married to Louis XH 
and, here, Wolsey and Francis I made an alliance 
against Kaiser Charles V. In earlier days, Abbeville 
was capital of the county of Ponthieu, over which 
Flanders and Normandy were continually wrangling; 
the Norman duke, William, conquered it ten years be- 
fore he invaded England. The museums, and the old 
churches of St. Gilles and St. Sepulcre are worth a 
visit, but its most noted building is the church of St. 
Vulfran, a fine example of the French Flamboyant 
style, which corresponds in period with England's 
Perpendicular. The large Roman camp known to have 
crowned the hills south of Abbeville has entirely disap- 
peared. 

An indication of the heavy automobile traffic 
through this region was the appearance, on the market 
place of many a town, of children crying, "A 
Boulogne ? a Boulogne ?" — some pointing out the way, 
ethers holding out their hands for coppers. 

At Nouvion, Crecy forest lay on our right, the bat- 
tlefield itself being three miles distant as the crow 
flies. About the same distance in the opposite direc- 
tion, lay St. Valery at the mouth of the Somme, where 
William the Conqueror finally set sail for England. 
Near Namport we crossed the line between the depart- 
ments of Somme and Pas de Calais. The threatened 

343 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

rain now fell in torrents and our car reached Montreuil 
m the face of a driving storm. Montreuil-sur-Mer, as 
you may judge from its name, was once a seaport; 
now, like some of the Cinque Ports of England, it lies 
inland — the shore nine miles away. As a port at the 
mouth of the Canche it was strongly fortified, and its 
walls, moat and citadel are still extant ; the moat, now 
dry, has been turned into gardens with fine sward un- 
derfoot and vine-covered walls each side. They re- 
mind one of the bowling greens in some famous old 
English gardens. 

Some miles southeast, along the Canche, lies Beau- 
rainville, which has scanty remains of the castle where 
Guy of Ponthieu imprisoned Harold of England in 
1064, at the instigation of the duke of Normandy. 
About twelve miles due east of Montreuil (though 
more than twenty miles by road) is famous Agincourt 
where, in 141 5, the English, under Henry V, won an- 
other glorious victory over the French who outnum- 
bered them more than four to one. At Crecy the odds 
were almost three to one against the English, but here 
their allied adversaries were hampered by lack of con- 
certed action. 

It seemed strange to be within gunshot, almost, of 
those famous battlefields familiar since childhood. How 
very, very long ago those bitter fights were waged! 
What changes have come since then — changes of every 
kind ! The fact that Montreuil, once a prosperous sea- 
port, is now a sleepy little inland town serves to show 
how very long ago it was. 

Because of the downpour, Bobbie turned in at Mon- 
treuil's cosy Hotel de France. As he drove into a 
protected part of the court, an open kitchen door re- 
vealed busy ranges and gleaming copper pans and 
saucepans. This stimulus to our appetites was not 

344 



AMIENS TO BOULOGNE-SUR-MER 

necessary but, as dinner hour was far off, we had to be 
content with coffee and cake served in the sitting- 
room. Mountains of cake and generous suppHes of 
fine coffee and cream disappeared with astonishing 
rapidity. The coffee cups were as large as porridge 
bowls. "A place after my own heart," said Scoffy. 
'T'd like to stay and sample that dinner." A lessening 
of the rain was the signal to resume our journey to 
Bologne — twenty-two miles away — a town not new 
to us; here we waited at Hotel du Louvre till it was 
time to load the automobile on the "Onward" — an old 
acquaintance. Five cars were stowed away below, but 
our auto, having a top, was left on deck. Although 
exposed to possible damage by salt water, the car was 
sure to be first ashore. 

Our short run across France proved pleasant and 
well worth while. Touring northern France from 
centers, you will take a few days longer than we did, 
but will see more. As the French once led the 
world at motoring, there should be good cars for hire 
in almost any small city or flourishing town. Rheims 
nnd Amiens look promising as geographical centers. 
From Rheims you may make a pretty, hundred-and- 
fifteen-mile sweep through vine-clad Champagne, visit- 
ing Epernay, Chatillon and Dormans — all on the 
Marne — thence circling north through Soissons and 
Coucy to Laon, and back via Fismes ; this should really 
be little more than a hundred-mile run, but fully ten 
additional miles are necessary to avoid pave roads. 

In the country around Amiens the paved roads 
preclude many advantageous combinations of routes. 
Driving to Peronne, St. Quentin, Chauny, Noyon, and 
home via Roye, would make about a hundred-mile 
run; Montdidier, Tricot, Ressons, Compiegne, Rive- 
coup, St. Martin, Clermont, and home via Breteuil, 

345 



OLD COUNTRIES DISCOVERED ANEW 

would make another — including eighteen miles from 
Compiegne to Pierrefonds and back. But it would 
take only twenty miles more from Clermont to include 
Beauvais and its cathedral, which would give you, all 
told, a splendid tour not over one-hundred and thirty 
miles in length. To Arras and back is about seventy- 
two miles, so this trip could be made in an afternoon. 
To extend it to Cambrai — famous for the origin of 
cambric, but of greater historic fame — would be to 
risk a deal of pave. 

That fascinating town, Rouen, is too far west to be 
easily included in a one-day auto ride from any center. 
But a two-day trip from Paris to Rouen might be 
made to embrace Beauvais, Gisors, the ruins of chateau 
Gaillard ("the saucy castle" of Richard the Lion 
Hearted) and other points of interest. Even a general 
view of Paris is most easily gained in an automobile. 

There still remains — though we stretch a point to 
include it in northern France — the chateau district of 
the Loire. Tours is the proper center for this. With 
virtually our same party, Pater hired a car there, some 
years ago, and viewed many chateaux very comfort- 
ably in one day. A two-day trip should include even 
the chateaux less frequented by tourists and, possibly, 
Orleans. 

The trip from Paris to Fontainebleau might readily 
be extended to embrace Sens, Troyes, Provins, and 
other quaint and interesting towns. But I am getting 
away from personal experience into the field of con- 
jecture — a departure entirely unnecessary; for when 
you have seen Rheims and Amiens, Paris and the 
chateau country, you have seen the very best la belle 
France has to offer. 

As the Onward ploughed her way through the 
rough Channel, and Boulogne and the Continent began 

'346 



AMIENS TO BOULOGNE-SUR-MER 

to fade into distance, the clouds broke and a beautiful 
rainbow appeared; we accepted this as an omen of 
fair weather, for such a magnificent, double bow would 
be likely to fulfill its promise even in misty old Eng- 
land. 



347 



BppenMx 



Garages : — Your expense for this item will vary a great deal, owing to 
the fact that many hotels and inns have garages or locked sheds of their 
own, and while some make a charge, others do not; it all depends on 
where you happen to stop. You will, perhaps, average from 8oc to 
$i.oo a day on this head. While the French words " automobile " and 
" garage " are current in Germany, the German name for a motorcar 
is Kraftwagen (pronounce, cr6ftvahgen), i. e. power wagon, or Kraftfahr- 
zeug (cr6ft-far-tsoig), i. e. power vehicle, and it is these German forms 
you will find on signs and danger signals throughout the country. In 
the absence of a true garage, a shed or storage space for an auto is gen- 
erally called Einstellraum (Tne-stell-rowm, the " o " being pronounced 
as in down). 

Repairs: — While repairs are cheap in foreign countries, the time lost 
in getting them done may more than even up the cost; this is especially 
true in replacing broken parts. If you take your car abroad you should 
not fail to carry a number of duplicate parts, such as a set of valves, 
springs, brake-bands, ignition parts, etc.; the maker of your car will 
give you a list on application. So slight a thing as the replacing of a 
small nut may raise the question of Standard or Continental threads 
and cause an hour's delay for re-threading. A repair shop, which is 
not always included in these so-called garages, is in Germany called 
Reparatur-Werkstatte (pronounce, Repp-ah-rah-tour Wajrrk-stette), 
which means " repair workplace." If stranded in a small town which 
lacks a repair shop, ask for a Machinist (m5sh'-in-ist) or, failing to find 
one, ask for the blacksmith shop, which is called Schmiede (shmeed'-e). 

Oil and Gasoline: — In places where there is no garage, oil and gaso- 
line may be obtained at hotels and inns, paint stores, general stores, 
and chemists' shops; the last, especially in Germany, are still separate 
from apothecary shops. Gasoline is called Benzm(e), in German, and 
oil is Oel (pronoimce " ale," with your lips puckered). In one small 
town we had to resort to axle grease for an overheated hub; it is called 
Wagen Schmiere (vahgen shmeer'-e). 

In France, gasoline is called essence (essaunce); to ask for oil, say 
" de Vhuile " (del weel) — but it is well to add " d luhrifier " (ah libri- 
feeay), i. e. for lubricating, lest you get salad oil. The French black- 
smith shop is marichallerie (maray'-shallereeO, but you need one where, 
besides horseshoeing, they also do f err onerie, i. e. working in iron. " Some 
axle grease " would be de Voing (del wang) d lubrifier. 

The price of gasoline abroad will probably average about 45c a gallon. 
But this, also, depends upon your tour; in the less traveled countries, 
such as Spain and Italy, it rims as high as $1.00 a gallon, and is often 
hard to obtain at all. In view of the fact that it has lately doubled in 
cost in the United States, it may have risen in price abroad. 

Tires: — Tires that are guaranteed to run 3000 miles in the United 
States will often wear out in less than half that distance abroad. Our 
trip, including England, cost us four new shoes and more than four 
inner tubes, besides much patching of old ones. In addition, one often 
finds it hard to get the tire one wants and the size one needs; and the 

349 



APPENDIX 

custom of rating the size in centimetres often leads to costly mistakes 
on the part of the traveler. One reason given for this unusual wear on 
tires, despite beautiful roads, is the extreme sharpness and hardness 
of the material used for the top dressing of foreign roadbeds. 

Brakes: — Watch your brakes and brake-bands; there are some 
very long grades in Europe. In the mountain country we often foimd 
the fibre lining of our brake-bands on fire after an unusually long coast 
down hill. On the long upgrades you may need to water your car 
on the road; many foreign cars have extra large radiators to obviate this 
difficulty. 

Horns: — In many of the larger Continental cities and towns anti- 
noise regulations forbid the use of musical horns, sirens, etc. It is, 
therefore, advisable to carry a single-tone bulb-horn on your car, what- 
ever else you carry in this line. 

Lamps: — We undertook very little traveling after dark; but one is 
often forced into it by imforeseen delays on the road. For a very long 
tour abroad, especially in southern countries where you do not get a 
long twilight, it might almost be worth while carrying an extra prestolite 
tank. At all events, you will probably find it almost impossible to get 
yours recharged. French cities prohibit acetylene headlights; this may 
now be true of other foreign cities. 

Chains: — As the use of chains is prohibited in many places it might 
be wise to figure on using nonskid shoes. But if you are partial to 
chains, take an extra set, as you are not likely to find them abroad. 

Page 76 : — The assertion that all motorcars which are for hire are 
likely to be imcomfortable ramshackle affairs, is absurd; it has, perhaps, 
been put forward by people " with an axe to grind." While it may have 
been true ten or fifteen years ago, it is certainly not true now. Indeed, 
considering that a day's trip is measured, not in time, but in kilometres 
or miles, it would be a losing proposition for a garage to have any but 
first-class cars for hire. Of course, I am speaking only of cars driven 
by a chauffeur from the garage where they were hired. It is not to be 
expected that an automobile worth even a fair second-hand price, would 
be intrusted to a total stranger to drive; it is too easy to make a com- 
plete wreck of a car by a little carelessness or a trifling lack of pro- 
ficiency. 

Page 88: — Triptyques, or triptychs, are certificates testif)ang that 
you have deposited the amount of yoiu- duty for a certain country. Thus 
you can deposit all your duties at one time, saving the delay due to 
weighing your car at each border, as well as avoiding the carrying of 
the amount of the duty in gold, or in the bills of each particular country. 
As the name indicates, they are issued in triplicate; the first sheet to 
be retained by the customs officer where you enter a certain country, 
the second to record the date of your entry and exit (also re-entry and 
re-exit, if such there be), and the third to certify to your final exit from 
said country, which entitles you to have your deposit refunded. They 
form a means of identification, cut a deal of red tape, and save much 
time. Of course you still have to pay a registration fee or license fee 
in order to get your number-tag, but this (for a few weeks) would be a 
relatively small amount. 

Taking a basis of five countries, your total deposit will approximate 



APPENDIX 

some four or five hundred dollars for a very small car and some ten to 
twelve hundred dollars for a good sized touring-car. Of course this 
will be subject to change, depending on the countries. Where you might 
pay $i6o for an open touring-car in France, you would probably pay 
twice this amoimt in Spain. A limousine would cost about $200 in 
France, for the duty is rated according to weight and horsepower. 
There is no duty on cars in England; only fees for registration and for 
the driver's license are required. 

Membership in the Touring Club of France costs only six francs. 
The triptyques will cost you about five francs per country, on the 
average. The club membership also entitles you to a discount of from 
S% to 10% at all hotels and inns on the Touring Club list, as well as to 
the purchase of the club's maps and itineraries. 

Pages 98 and 100: — A shipping agent will save you much time and 
vexation in such matters as crating, weighing, loading, getting the car 
ashore and through the foreign customs line promptly, shipping the 
crate to your point of departure, storing it there, and last — but by no 
means least — getting your car through the United States custom 
house. The cost of boxing and shipping a car, both ways, will rim from 
about $300 to $450 (for a very small runabout, $200 to $300), depending 
on the size of your car, the steamship line chosen, the ports of entry 
and departure, and the speed of the steamer, i. e. whether it is an express 
or a cargo boat. An open touring-car, with the top down, naturally 
costs less than a limousine, yet a limousine or other stationary top is 
very desirable for carrying baggage and spare tires in comfort. The 
big express companies and several of the larger steamship companies 
now act as shipping agents. Be sure to take out a marine insurance on 
your car. 

Hired Cars : — By hiring a car abroad you save not only the above 
cost, but also some $150 for your chauffeur's passage money, from one 
to two dollars a day for his board and lodging, and all the high cost 
of gasoline, tires and repairs, noted above. For one-day tours in a hired 
car you also save garage charges. Foreign chauffeurs must be thor- 
oughly trained before they can even attempt to get their licenses; they 
save you a great amount of trouble by being familiar with the laws, 
the language and the roads. On the other hand, strange cars are not 
very gently handled by the cleaners in foreign garages; and the best 
efforts of your own chauffeur will not prevent your motorcar from 
needing at least a fresh coat of paint when you bring it back from over- 
seas. 

Some people figure on driving their own cars while abroad, but I 
consider this a great mistake: the one who drives would not half see 
the coimtry; he would lose a lot of time between hotel and garage 
where these are not adjacent, and still more time overhauling and re- 
pairing his car at night; and finally, every puncture, blowout or me- 
chanical breakdown would mean hard work instead of affording a fine 
chance to stretch his legs and investigate the neighborhood at close 
range. 

Page 106:— ^ The Ravenstein book gives hundreds of itineraries; it 
mentions the rivers and railroads you are to cross or follow, gives the 
nature of the road and of the adjoining coimtry, and, for cities and 



APPENDIX 

larger towns gives a brief description of the principal sights. It mentions 
the streets by which to enter and leave a town, names hotels and ga- 
rages and — in the absence of the latter — names repair shops, drug 
stores and other depots for oil and gasoline. By using this book in 
conjunction with the maps (it is in two volumes, for convenience) one 
gets an interesting and intelligent idea of all one sees, and it is almost 
impossible to get lost. Of^course the book is in German, but the traveler 
can always study up his route beforehand, if vmfamiliar with the lan- 
guage, and make notes on the page. 

The maps themselves are sectional, about twelve by sixteen inches; 
a very convenient size to handle, especially when you have to hold two 
in passing from one map to another. They are executed to a scale of 
about eight kilometres (a scant five miles) to the inch, and are replete 
with detail. Good, indifferent and poor roads are so shown; distances 
are given in kilometres and heights above sea level in metres; villages 
— even hamlets — are distinctly marked, ascending and descending 
grades indicated, and dangerous places of all kinds pointed out by a 
red dot of warning. 

Danger signs on the road: — A list of Continental danger signs may 
be procured, among other places, at the Touring Club of France. They 
are easy to read: a cross means a dangerous crossing; turns to right or 
left are represented by angles, sharp up or down grades by lines sloping 
up or down from left to right, and a combination of turn and grade 
by a combination of the corresponding signs; the grade crossing of a 
railroad is indicated by a picket fence, a sunk-crossing by a mark sug- 
gesting a tunnel;! a checker-board means bad pavement, etc., etc. A 
very useful sign shows two horizontal lines crossed by a heavy vertical 
line, and means rails projecting above the roadbed. 

In England, a red triangle moimted on a post means danger; a red 
disk moimted on a post means restricted speed limits; and a white ring 
means that the road is closed to motors. 

Identification of car and driver: — You will need a photograph (tin- 
type size, about 7-8 x i^ inches) of the person who is to drive your 
car, to be pasted on the driver's license for each country you enter. If 
both owner and chauffeur expect to do driving, each needs a license. 
If not familiar with foreign languages you had better take with you a 
complete description of your car translated into the language of each 
country you expect to visit, giving the horsepower and the nmnber of 
the motor, the number of the car, its value and its weight, the size of 
wheelbase, the number of cylinders, a description of the equipment, etc., 
etc. 

If you own a car of foreign make, have a careful record of its condi- 
tion made by the United States custom house before shipping it; for 
if it shows repairs or changes exceeding ten percent of the original cost, 
the United States custom house may claim that these were made abroad 
and, hence, demand payment of the full import duty for your car when 
you land here. Any eqmpment purchased abroad is subject to duty and 
is best brought back separately. It is difficult to bring home even an 
American car unless your shipping agent has made all necessary 
declarations. 

,352 



Special flriOcx of practical fiDatters 

A G 



Agencies for motor touring, 79. 
Automobiles: 
advantages of covered, 77, 351 

Us- 

care of {see Garages, Repairs). 
cleaning of (see Garages). 
driving of, 128, 139, 140, 170, 

229, 283, 349-52- 
equipment for {see name of item). 
foreign names for, 349 Ifi. 
hiring of {see Hired cars). 
shipment of, 98-9, 351 %3. 



Baggage, amount carried, 77, 341. 
Brakes, 350. 



Centers {see Touring centers). 

Chains, 350. 

Chauffeurs, foreign, 351 ^4. 

Custom houses {see Douanes). 

Customs requirements, 87-8, 100 
{see also Triptyques, Identifi- 
cation). 



D 



Garages: 
character of, 282, 349 {see also 
Repairs, p. 349, Hired cars, p. 
350). 
charges at, 349. 
foreign names of, 349. 
Gasoline: 
cost of, 349. 

foreign names of, 240, 349. 

where procured, 349. 

Germany as a motoring country, 

85-6, 112, 116, 137-8, 141, 

156-7, 163-4, 170, 224, 237, 

238-9, 251-2, 256-7, 283, 288, 

293, 334- 
Guidebooks {see Maps, Itiner- 
aries) 

H 

Hired cars: 

advantages of, 2, 3, 76-7, 87, 
134-5, 282-3, 296, 333, 351. 

cost of, 2, 75-6. 

Holland as a motoring country, 

53-6, 62, 70-71. 
Horns, 3, 114, 141, 350. 
Hotels and Inns: 

in general, 77, 85-6, 334, 351 If 2. 

in particular {see name of place). 



Danger signs, 352 {see also Sign I 

posts). 

Daylight, duration of, 228, 229. Identification, 352. 

Directions for entering foreign Insurance, marine, 351 ^3. 



towns, 128. 
Douanes: 
French, 317. 
German, 88, 100, 295, 314. 



France as a motoring country, 319- 
20, 322, 333, 334-6, 345. 



Itineraries: 
of clubs and guidebooks, 88, 351 

1[2 and 1[6. 
of this book {see Routes, Touring 
centers). 



K 

Kilometre stones, 318. 



353 



SPECIAL INDEX 



Lamps, 350. 

Licenses {see Customs require- 
ments). 

M 

Maps. 

France, 329, 351 ^2. 
Germany, 106, 352 ^[2. 
Mileage on maps compared to 
actual run, 170, 229 {see also 
Run). 
Milestones, 318. 
Motor clubs, 88, 351 ^[2. 



N 



Names: of streets and highways in 
Germany, 1 70. 
of towns in France {see Kilo- 
metre stones). 

O 

Officials, 84 {see also Douanes). 
Oil: 

foreign names of, 240, 351. 

where procured, 351. 



167, 170, 180, 184, 204, 215- 
16, 219, 220, 221, 228, 231, 
237, 245, 247, 256, 288, 293, 
319, 334- 

Holland, 53, 319. 
Routes {see also Touring centers) : 

France, 317, 320, 322-3, 329, 
330-i> 333-4, 341, 342-3, 
345-6- 

Germany, 106, no, 114, 116, 
117, 154, 163, 164, 167, 173, 
17s, 184, 185, 204, 213-14, 
215, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 
224, 233, 237, 238, 24s, 247, 
249, 255, 259, 260, 261, 283, 
284, 286, 288, 293, 294, 308, 

309, 314- 
Holland, 46, 54, 62, 63, 70, 71, 

73, 78. 
Run, average day's, 76, 229. 



Signposts and Signboards {see also 

Danger signs). 
France, 318-19. 
Germany, 139, 140, 168, 170, 

216, 247, 318. 



Pave {see Paved roads). 
Paved roads: 

France, 319, 329-30, 333, 341, 
345, 346. 

Germany, 319. 

Holland, 53, 319. 



R 



Railroad crossings, 319 {see also 

Danger signs). 
Repairs, 349. 

Registration {see Customs require- 
ments). 
Road books {see Maps). 
Road maps {see Maps). 
Roads, condition of: 

France, 322, 334 {see also PavS). 

Germany, no, 116, 163, 165, 



Time, change in, 320. 
Tires, 296, 335, 349. 
Toll bridges, 109, 259. 
Touring centers: 

in general, 2, 3, 333. 

France, 345, 346. 

Germany, 308, 309. 

Holland, 78. 

sub-centers, 308. 
Touring clubs, 88, 351 ^[2. 
Triptyques, 88, 100, 318, 350 II7. 



W 



Wraps, 77-8. 



Yachting trip to Marken, cost of, 
45- 



354 



(General irnbey* 



Aachen (Aix-la-Chapdle), 178, 260. 
Abbeville: 341, 343. 

church of St. Gilles, 343. 

church of St. Sepulcre, 343. 

church of St. Vulfran, 343. 

history of, 343. 
Abelard, 331. 

Adalbert, archbp. of Bremen, 159. 
Adalbert of Babenberg, 261-2. 
Agincourt, 344. 
Agricius of Antioch, 291. 
Agriculture (Dutch), 79. 
Ailly-sur-Somme, 342. 
Aire river, 321. 
Aisne river, 321. 
Aisne, department of, 329. 
Aix-la-Chapelle (see Aachen). 
Albert of Brandenburg, 220. 
Albert of Meissen, 208, 209, 220 
Albert the Bear, 213-4. 
Albrechtsburg (see Meissen). 
Alkmaar, 61. 
Aller river, 116, 130. 
Alster river, 94, 97-8. 
Altdorf {see Ravens prung). 
Altenburg, 220, 221, 222, 308. 
Altenburg {S axe- Altenburg) duchy 

of, 186, 222, 308. 
Altenburg, legends of, 222-3. 
Altenburg peasant dress, 222. 
Alva, duke of, 59, 222. 
America, discoveries in, 300, 301. 
Amersfoort: 69-70. 

St. Mary's church tower, 69-70. 

Water Gate (Koppel-Poort) , 70. 
Amicis, 41. 
Amiens: 334, 336-40, 345-6. 

battles of, 336. 

Beffroi, 337. 

cathedral, 337-9. 



church of St. Germain, 337. 

church of St. Remi, 337. 

hotel du Rhin, 336. 

hotel Morgan, 337. 

musee de Picardie, 337. 

peace of, 336. 
Amsterdam: 11-26, s:^, 43, 78. 

Amstel river, 12, 13, 19. 

Amstelchuts lock, 17. 

Baron Six's house, 19. 

beguinage (Begynenhof) , 23. 

Delft store, 15. 

de Ruyter's house, 18. 

Heerengracht, 18, 19, 20. 

het IJ, 16, 18. 

grachten, 14, 18, 19, 20, 68. 

hotel Amstel, 12-13, 16. 

houses, 17, 18, 19, 20. 

Jewish quarter, 18, 19. 

Kalverstraat, 15. 

Nieuwe Kerk (new church), 21. 

Oude Kerk (old church), 21. 

palace, the {het Paleis), 22-3. 

Paleis vor Folksflijt, 14. 

plan of city, 14, 16, 18. 

Rembrandt house, 19. 

Rijks museum, 23-6. 

Singel, 18, 68. 

Sophien Plein, 15. 

towers, 15, 17-18. 

university library, 18. 

Utrecht street, 14, 20. 

Willet-Holthuysen museum, 19. 

Wynand-Fockink, 23. 

Y, the {see het I J). 
Anhalt, 213, 214. § 
Apeldoom, 80. 
Architectiu-e {see also houses) : 

(Dutch), 17, 18, 20, so, SI, 56, 

79- 
(French), 323-5, 326, 330, 331, 

333, 337-9, 343- 



* Excepting Coblenz, Mayence and Treves, all places on the Rhine 
and the Moselle are listed under the names of these rivers. 

For ready reference the word "legend " and the first two letters of 
the words " church " and " cathedral " are printed in bold face type, 

355 



GENERAL INDEX 



Architecture (cont.) 

(German), 80, 86, 120-2, 129, 

131, 134, 144-7, 148, 149, 
150, 153, 162, 184, 190, 208-9, 
216, 233, 241, 244, 255-6, 
264, 280, 283, 284, 291, 301, 

307- 

Argorme, forest of, 321. 

Arras, 346. 

Art of travel, the, i, 77-8 

Artois, 344. 

Attila, 322. 

Attitude of peasants toward mo- 
torcars, 117. 

August II {the Strong), 211, 216. 

August III, 216. 

Augusta, Empress, 281. 

Ausonias, 293. 

Austrasia, 323. 



B 



Baam, 70, 71. 
Baamsche Bosch, 70. 
Baddahuenna Wood, 54. 
Baldwin, archbp. of Treves, 284. 
Ballenstadt-Ascanien, 213. 
Ballenstadt-Ascanien, Bemhard 

of, 214. 
Bamberg, 218. 
Barenberg, 155. 
Barbarossa, Frederick, H. R. emp., 

Ill, 127, 176, 177, 178, 206, 

25o> 253. 
Barbarossa, Frederick, legends of, 

176-8. 
Bardowieck, in. 
Bavaria, 186, 308. 
Bazaine, Marshal, 296, 310, 311, 

312. 
Beauvais, 346. 
Becket, Thomas a, 330. 
Beer drinking in Germany, 172 

196-201. 
Belgiimi, origin of, 64. 
Berlin, 309. 

Bingen, 260-61, 272, 277. 
Bingen, hotel Victoria at, 261. 
Bingerbriick, 261. 
Bismarck monument, 96, 176. 
Black Forest, 218. 



Black Prince, the, 341. 
Blankenburg, 214, 308. 
Bloemendaal, 53. 
Bloomingdale, 53. 
Bocklin, Arnold, 231. 
Bohemund, Bishop, 292. 
Boniface (Winfrid), 249. 
Bossu, Admiral Count, 33, 61. 
Bottger, 210, 211. 
Boulogne-sur-Mer, 341, 345. 
Boulogne-sur-Mer, hotel du 

Louvre at, 345. 
Braisne, 330. 
Braisne, church of St. Yved at, 

330- 
Brandenburg, 186, 205, 213-14. 
Brederode chateau, 53. 
Breitenfeld, battle of, 188. 
Bremen, 308. 
Breteuil, 345. 
Brie, 329. 
Broek-in-the-Waterland: 30-32. 

cheese-farm, 30-31. 

church, 31. 
Brooklyn, 64-5. 
Brunhilde, 303. 

Brvmswick {Braunschweig): in, 
119-35, 142, 145, 308, 322. 

Burgplatz, 120. 

Caroline of Brimswick, 122. 

cathedral of St. Blasius, 120-22. 

churches, 131. 

Dankwarderode, Burg, 120. 

Georges of England, 122-25, 
127. 

Gildehaus, 120. 

fairy lore, 130. 

Henry the Lion, 119, 120, 121, 
127. 

Henry the Lion, legend of, 132. 

lion statue, 120. 

old buildings, 120, 129, 131. 

Schill monument, 130. 

Sophia Dorothea of Zell, 123, 
124. 

TiU Eulenspiegel fountain, 130. 

Welfs {Guelfs), 126, 127. 

Welfs, legends of, 132-3. 
Bundesrath, 93, 179. 
Burgrave {Burggraj) definition of, 
206. 



356 



GENERAL INDEX 



Caesar (Kaiser) (see Holy Roman 

Empire). 
Calvin, 333. 
Cambrai, 346. 
Canche river, 344. 
Capet, Hugh, 326, 333. 
Carlovingian dynasty, rise of, 304. 
Caroline Matilda of Denmark, 

125. 
Caroline of Anspach, 124. 
Caroline of Brunswick, 122. 
Cathedrals (see name of city or 

town). 
Celle (Zell), 124, 125, 308. 
Celle, Sophia Dorothea of, 123-4. 
Chalons-sur-Marne, 322. 
Chalons-sur-Marne, battle of, 322. 
Champagne, 321, 345. 
Champagne (wine), ^23. 
Charlemagne, H. R. emp., 57, 88, 

91, 94, 109, 176, 260, 263, 295, 

303-4, 333, 343- 
Charlemagne, legends of, 178, 255, 

260, 263, 305. 
Charles IV, H. R. emp., 277, 307. 
Charles V, H. R. emp., 58-9, 65, 

182, 299-301, 343. 
Charles VII of France, 326. 
Charles Martel, 304. 
Charles the Bald, 57, 321. 
Charles the Bold, 58. 
Charlotte of Mecklinburg-Stre- 

litz, 124. 
Chatillon, 345. 
Chauny, 345. 
Childebert, 303. 
Childeric, 303. 
Chilperic, 303, 333. 
Chlodwig (Clevis), 303, 325, 326, 

330. 
Chlodwig, legends of, 303, 325. 
Chlodomer, 304. 
Chlotar II, 303. 
Chlotilde, 304. 
Cheese-farm (Dutch), 30-31. 
Chemnitz, 219, 220. 
Christian IV of Denmark, 155. 
Churches (see nam,e of city or 



Clairvaux, Bemhard of, 280. 
Clement III, Pope, 161. 
Clermont, 345. 
Clermont en Argonne, 321. 
Clovis (see Chlodwig). 
Coblenz: 278, 279-83. 

church of St. Castor, 280. 

concert by military band, 282. 

Deutsche Eck, 279. 

Ehrenbreitstein, fortress, 280. 

Emperor William I as prince 
and governor, 281. 

Emperor William I, statue of, 
279. 

floating bridge, 282. 

history of, 280-81. 

hotel Riesen Fiirstenhof und 
Anker, 281-2. 

Teutonic Order, lodge of, 279. 
Colorado, 301. 
Compiegne, 345-6. 
Conrad, engineer, 62. 
Conrad (engineer), monument of, 

SI- 
Conrad II, H. R. emp., 66-7, 280. 
Conrad III, H. R. emp., legend of, 

253-4- 
Conrad of Hohenzollem, in. 
Constantinp, emp., 149, 291. 
Corroyer, Edouard, 339. 
Coster, Lorenz, 50. 
Costumes, native: 

(Dutch), 24, 31. 

(see also Volendam and Marken.) 

(German), 222. 
Coucy-Ie-Chateau, 331-3, 345. 
Courcelles, 330. 
Cranach, Lucas, 173, 231. 
Crecy, battle of, 341, 343, 344. 
Crownprince, the German, 103. 
Crownprincess, the German, 104, 
105. 



D 



Dagobert, 63, 304, 343, 

Dahn, Felix, 148, 238. 

Danzig, 47, 86, 309. 

Dead Cities of the Zuyder Zee, 

32-37 42-3, 47-8- 
Delft, 78. 



357 



GENERAL INDEX 



Delft-ware store, 15. 
Devil's Wall, 214. 
Diedenhofen, 294-5, 300. 
Dog wagons {Dutch), 8, 55. 
Dormans, 345. 
Dortmund, 309. 
Dresden: 216-18, 308. 

Augustus bridge, 216, 217. 

barbers, 216. 

Bruhl terrace, 216. 

hotel Bellevue, 216-7. 

picture galleries, 216. 

Saxon Switzerland, 217. 

tralEc on Elbe, 217. 

Zwinger, 216. 
Drouet, 321. 

Duelling in Germany, 190-96. 
Duplication of names in France, 
322. 



E 



Ebers, George, 57, 148. 
Edam, 33. 

Edinburgh, duke of, 239. 
Edward III, 126, 280, 341. 
Eisenach: 240-46, 308. 

Annathal, 245, 246. 

Bach monument, 241. 

business enterprise, 248. 

Drachenschlucht, 245. 

hotel Rautenkranz, 240. 

Luther house, 241. 

legends of, 243. 

market, 240. 

Wartburg; 

description of the, 241-2. 
legends of, 242. 
Luther room in the, 241. 
origin of, 242. 

Zur Hohen Sonne, 245. 
Eisleben, 181-2, 308. 
Eitel Friedrich, Prince, 104. 
Electors of H. R. Empire, 214. 
Elector Palatine, 214, 276. 
Elbe river, 93, 94, 109, 204, 215, 

216, 217. 
Elizabeth, the holy, 244-5. 
Ellrich, legend of, 169-70. 
Enkhuizen, 33. 
Erasmus, 6, 7. 



Erfurt: 233-6, 238, 308. 
cathedral, 233-5. 
church of St. Severus, 233. 
cloisters, 235. 
Count von Gleichen monument, 

234- 

Hallowe'en customs, 236-7. 

Luther's inn, 235. 

Luther's monastery, 235-6. 

stoneware market, 236. 

witchcraft trial, 236. 
Ernest of Thuringia, 208, 209, 220, 

221. 
Etoile, camp of, 342. 
Explorers, Spanish, 300-301. 



Fairs {see Leipsic). 

Falkenstein, Kuno of, 274. 

Fastrada, legend of, 260. 

Fergusson, 337. 

Fisheries {Dutch), 28. 

Fismes, 329, 330, 345. 

Flavigny, 313. 

Floha river, 220. 

Florida, 301. 

Fontainebleau, 346. 

Forestry of Habichtshorst, no. 

Forts, French, 320, 323. 

Forts, German, 217, 280, 307. 

France {Book III), 317. 

France as a motoring country {see 

Special Index). 
Francis I, 343. 
Francis Joseph {Franz Josef) of 

Austria, 179. 
Franks, the, 178, 290, 303-4, 322, 

330. 
Franks, legends of the, 304. 
Frankfort: 178, 247, 248, 255-7, 
259, 308- 

as a motor center, 256. 

cathedral, 255. 

hotel Frankfurter Hof, 256-7. 

legends of, 255-6. 

Palm Garden, 257. 

Ravenstein maps, 257. 

Romer, 256. 
Frederick I, H. R, emp. {see Bar- 
bar ossa). 



358 



GENERAL INDEX 



Frederick Karl, Prince, 310, 311. 
Frederick of HohenzoUern, 179, 

265-6. 
Frederick the Warlike, 210, 220. 
Frederick the Wise, 241. 
Frederick Ulrich of Brunswick, 156. 
Frederick William IV, 277. 
Freiberg, 219. 

Freiberg, legend of, 219-20. 
Freytag, Gustav, 148, 237-8, 239. 
Friedrichsroda, 245. 
Fulda, 247, 249. 
Fulda river, legend of, 249. 



Galliard, cha,teau, 346. 

Gasthaus " Zu den Drei Glei- 

chen," 238. 
Gegensteine, 214. 
Gelnhausen, 247, 250. 
Georges of England, iii, 122-5, 

127-8. 
Georges of England, romances of, 

122-5. 
Gera, 223, 308. 

Germania monument, 176, 261. 
Germania Superior, 260. 
Germany {Book II): 83. 

as a motoring country {see Spe- 
cial Index). 

a new view of, 83-6. 

government of, 179. 

laws in, 84. 

lese majesty, 84-5. 

states constituting, 179. 
Gifhom, 116, 117, 139. 
Gisors, 346. 
Goethe, johann Wolfgang, 226, 

229-31.^ 
Goethe national museum, 230. 
Golz {see Von der Golz). 
Goosegirl, 1 13-14. 
Goslar: 159-63, 205, 308. 

Breitethor, 163. 

cathedral {Domcapelle) , 162. 

legend of, 162. 

Kaiserhaus, 162. 

old buildings, 162. 

Paulsthurm, 159. 

Petersberg, 161. 



Rammelsberg, 159, 162. 

Sleeping Beauty, 163. 
Gotha, 239. 
Gravelotte, 312-3. 
Gravelotte, battle of {see Metz). 
Grimm, the brothers Jacob, Ludwig 

and William, 251. 
Gregory VII, pope, 160. 
Grumbach rebellion, 239. 
Guelf {see Welf). 
Guise, duke of, 299, 307. 
Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, 
156, 188. 

H 

Haarlem: 49-53. 

cheese market, 52. 

cheese weigh house, 52. 

Conrad monument, 51. 

Coster monument, 50. 

church of St. Bavo, 49, 50, 51. 

Groote Kerk {see St. Bavo). 

Groote Markt, 50. 

Hals, Frans, 52. 

meat market {Vleeschhal) , 50. 

Spaarne river, 49. 

Spaarnewouder Poort, 49. 

Teyler museum, 52. 

town hall {Stadhiiis), 50. 

tulip bulbs, 49-50. 
Haarlem lake, 46. 
Haarlemmer Hout, 53. 
Haarlemmer Polder, 46. 
Hague {see The Hague). 
Halberstadt, 213, 308. 
Half-timber buUdings {see houses, 

Germany). 
Halfweg, 46. 
Halle: 182-4, 185, 308. 

cemetery, 184. 

church of St. Mary, 183. 

church of St. Moritz, 184. 

hotel Stadt Hamburg, 184. 

Halloren, 184. 

Giebichenstein castle, 183. 

Markt, 183. 

Markt, legends of, 183-4. 

Moritzburg, 183. 

Roland, 183. 

Rothe Thurm, 183. 



359 



GENERAL INDEX 



Hallowe'en customs, 236-7. 
Hals, Frans, 52. 
Hamburg: 93-107, 308. 

Alster river, 94, 97-8. 

Brahm's birthplace, 97. 

free port, 93, 99. 

getting a license at, 100. 

great fire, 94. 

govermnent of, 93. 

history of, 94-5, 96. 

journeymen's sign for, 97. 

Kaiser's visit at, 101-5. 

Klopstock's house, 96. 

landing a motorcar at, 99-100. 

Mendelssohn's birthplace, 97. 

modem city, 97-8. 

old streets and gates, 96-7. 

population of, 109. 

races at, 103-5. 

Steinstrasse, 97. 

Uhlenhorst, 98. 
Hamlin, Prof. A. D. F., 338. 
Hanau, 247, 249, 251. 
Hanover, 125, 308. 
Hanno, archbp. of Cologne, 159. 
Hansel and Gretel, 114, 251. 
Hanseatic league, 95, 162. 
Hapsburg, house of, 58, 179, 265. 
Hapsburg, Rudolph of, 178, 179, 

265-6. 
Harburg, 109. 
Harmelen, 63. 
Harold of England, 344. 
Harzburg {Bad), 160, 163. 
Harz {nits.) the: 163-8, 308. 

Abbenstein, 164. 

Berggeist, 167. 

Brocken, the, 166. 

Braimlage, 167. 

forester, a, 165. 

forester of Scharzfels, legend of, 
165. 

Gaisberg, 168. 

gasthaus, 165. 

grades of, 164, 165, 167. 

Hohnstein castle, legend, 168. 

Lichtenstein spring, legend, 
164-5. 

Needle's Eye at Ilfeld, 168. 

Oder Lake, 166. 

Radau waterfall, 163. 



Rehberg, legends of, 166. 

St. Andreasberg, 168. 

Tot-Osel, legend of, 167-8. 

Tanzteich {Dance pond) legend, 
168. 

Wild Huntsman, legend of, 
167-8. 

Zorge, 167, 168. 
Hatto {bishop), legends of, 261-2. 
Haime river, 249. 
Hautsee, legend of, 247. 
Heidelberg, 276, 308. 
Hengist, 62. 

Henry II, H. R. emp., 280. 
Henry II of France, 299. 
Heiuy HI, H. R. emp., 159, 162. 
Henry IV, H. R. emp., 159-61, 

163, 215, 280. 
Henry V, H. R. emp., 67, 161, 280. 
Henry V of England, 344. 
Henry the Fowler, king of Ger- 
many, 204, 205, 213, 214, 262, 
304, 306. 
Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony, 
III, 119, 120, 121, 127, 236, 
271. 
Henry the Lion, legend of, 132. 
Henry the Proud, duke of Bava- 
ria, 126. 
Herder, 230. 
Herrenhausen, 125. 
Hessen {Hesse), 248. 
Hessen, legends of, 248. 
Het IJ, 16, 18, 28. 
Hildebrand {see Gregory VII). 
Hildebrand (the artist), 231. 
Hildesheim: 142-154, 308. 

Andreas Platz, 146. 

apothecary shop, 146. 

Bishop Bemward, 143. 

church of St. Godehard, 149. 

church of St. Michael, 149. 

cathedral, 150-4. 

golden days of city, 144-5. 

Gallows Hill, 154. 

Hohe Weg, 143. 

Kaiserhaus, 148. 

Knochenhauer Amthaus, 145-6. 

legends of city, 148. 

Markt, 143, 146. 

old houses, 145-7. 



36c 



GENERAL INDEX 



Hildesheim (co>!{.) 
patrician houses, 145. 
Renaissance imagery, 147. 
tliousand-j-ear-old rosebush, 151, 

IS3--4- 
Hilversum, 71, So. 
Hohenstaufen, house of, 161, 17S, 

Hohenzollem, house of, iii, 179, 

265. 
Holland (Bcwk I): i. 
as a motoring country (see Spe- 
cial Iiuiex). 
history of, 53, 57-61, 63-4, 68, 

71-2. 
origin of, S7-S, 63. 
Holy Roman emperors, 254. 
(sec also name of emperor.) 
Holy Roman emperors, legends of, 
'254. 255. 
{see also name of emperor.) 
Holy Roman Empire: 
origin and nature of, 149-50, 

277. 
end of, 265. 
Hook of Holland, 4, 5. 
Hoom, 53. 
Hoi-selberg, 240. 
Horselberg. legends of, 240. 
Horsel river, 239. 
Hotels in general, 77, 85-6, 334, 

351 II2. 
Hotels (see mime of place). 
Houses {sec also architecture): 
Dutch, 17, 18, 10, 20, 30, 35, 40. 
French, So, 13S, 317, 337. 
German, S6, So, 91, 92, 115, 120, 
129, 131, 13S, 145-7, 151, 162, 
189, 206, 241, 244, 271, 279. 
Humperdinck, 113, 114. 
Hims, 205, 206, 287, 322. 



IJ, het, 16, 18, 28. 
IJ polder, 46. 
Ile-de-France, 329, 7,2,$. 
Ingelheim (Nieder-), 260. 
Innerste river. 154. 
Imikeepers abroad, 85-6. 
Inquisition, the, 58-61. 



Inquisition at Haarlem and Lei- 
den, 52-3, 56-7. 

Inselberg, 239. 

Inscriptions on houses, 1 15-16, 
138-9, 146, 147. 

Isenburg, Bishop Arnold of, 277. 



Jena: 224, 225-7, 308. 

battle of, 227. 

Goethe at, 226. 

legends of, 225. 

Schiller at, 226. 

some professors at, 226. 

university of, 225-6. 
Joan of Arc, 302-3, 323, 326. 
John George, elector of Saxony, 

156. 
John (JoJiann) king of Bohemia, 

341. 
JounaejTiien, 97, 130-31, 175. 



Kaiser, the German, 84, 101-5, 179. 

Kaiserin, 103, 105. 

Kampen, 47. 

Karl (see Charles). 

Karl the Great (see Charlemagne). 

Karlo\-ingian djiiasty, rise of, 304. 

Katwyk-au-Zee, 62. 

Kaufmigen, Kimz von, 209, 219, 

220-21. 
Kellerman, 321. 
Key, Lieven de, 56. 
Kiel, 30S. 
Kinzig river, 249. 
Kinzig river, legend of, 250. 
Klopstock, 96, 213. 
Koenigsberg, 309. 
Konigstein, 217-1S. 
Koppel-Poort, 70. 
Kyfthauser monument, 176. 
K}^iauser mountain, 175-6. 
Kj'ffhauser mountain, legends of, 

175-8. 



Lahn river, 277. 

Landgrave {Landgraf), definition 
of, 206. 



36] 



GENERAL INDEX 



Laon, 345. 

Lassigny, 334. 

Lautenthal, 154. 

Lenbach, 231. 

Leipsic: 184-5, 187-202, 203, 308. 

battle monuments, 188-9. 

battles of, 188-9. 

dueling, 190-6. 

fairs, 187. 

modem buildings, 189-90. 

old buildings, 189. 

Rosenthal, 189. 

speed trap at, 184-5. 

student life, 190-202. 

student commers, 199-201. 

student customs, 196. 

suburbs, 203. 

university, 190, 202. 
Lek (Leuk), river, 16, 293. 
Lese majesty, 84-5. 
I'Etoile {see Etoile). 
Lette river, 331, 333. 
Leyden {Leiden): 56, 57, 61, 62 

Breede Straat, 56. 

Burcht, de, 62. 

Gemeendlandhuis van Rijn- 
land, 56. 

Key, Lieven de, 56. 

Rhine, the old, 56. 

siege of Leyden, 56-7, 62. 

town hall (Stadhuis), 56. 

university, 61. 

Van der Werf, Burgomaster, 62. 

Van der Werf Park, 62. 

Van Oudheden museum, 56. 
Lichtenstein, 220. 
Liszt, Franz, 230. 
Lobeda, 224. 
Lohengrin, 306. 
Loire chateau district, 346. 
Lorraine {Lothringen) , 57, 58, 306, 

2>°9, 321. 
Lothar (Lothaire), 57, 321. 
Louis XII, 343. 
Louis XIV, 276. 
Louis XVI, 321. 
Louis of Orleans, 332, 333. 
Louis the German {see Ltidwig). 
Louis the Pious {le Debonnaire), 

H. R. emp., 181, 259, 295, 331. 
Louise of Prussia, 123. 



Liibeck, 308. 

Ludwig the Bavarian, H. R. emp., 

280. 
Ludwig the German, H. R. emp., 

57, 321. 
Ludwig der Springer, 183, 242. 
Liineburg, in, 112-13. 
Liineburger Heide, 112. 
Luther, Martin: 

as a factor in the world's his- 
tory, 300. 
as an unwitting check on art and 

literature, 233. 
as a monk, 235-6. 
at the Wartburg, 241. 
place of birth and death, 181-2. 
Luxemburg, 294. 
Luxemburg emperors, 178. 

M 

Maas {Meuse) river, 4, 5, 16, 69, 

320, 321. 
MacMahon, Marshal, 310. 
Magellan, 301. 
Main river, 255. 
Mainz {Mayence): 259-260. 

age of, 260. 

cathedral, 259-60. 

Fastrada, legend of, 260. 

legends of the bishops of, 261-2. 

Peter's Au island, 259. 
Mansfeld, legend of the counts of, 

180. 
Manteuffel, General von, 310. 
Marchfeld, battle of, 266. 
Margrave {MarkgraJ), definition 

of, 205-6. 
Marken, island of, 37-41. 
Marks, 205, 209. 
Marks, definition of, 205. 
Marksiihl, 247. 
Mame, department of, 322. 
Mame river, 345. 
Mars-la-Tour, 311, 313, 317. 
Mary Tudor, 343. 
Maximilian of Hapsburg, H. R. 

emp., 58, 187. 
Mayence {see Mainz). 
Mazarin, Cardinal, 332. 
Meerane, 221-2. 



362 



GENERAL INDEX 



Meissen: 203, 204-212, 214, 308. 

Albrechtsbiirg, 208-10. 

castle restaurant, 207-8. 

cathedra!, 209-10. 

discovery of porcelain, 210-11. 

drive up to castle, the, 207. 

German chauffeur, a, 207-8. 

royal porcelain works, 211-12. 

the town, 206-7. 
Merovingian dynasty, 303-4, 330. 
Merovingian kings, legends of, 

303, 304. 
Merseburg, 205, 215, 308. 
Merwede canal, 16. 
Mettemich, Prince, 285. 
Metz: 295, 297, 299-307, 309. 

basilica of St. Peter, 307. 

battle of August, 1870, 309-12. 

battlefields of August, 1870, 313. 

cathedral, 297-301. 

decline under French rule, 302. 

Deutsches Tor, 302. 

fortifications, 307. 

garrison, 306, 309. 

history, 299, 301-2. 

hotel Royal, 307. 

legends of, 302-5. 

modem city, 307. 

Mutte, the, 302. 

noble's residence, a, 307. 

palace of Prankish kings, 303. 

palace of Roman governor, 303. 

Pont des Morts, 306, 309. 

Roman aqueduct, 302. 

Roman graves, 307. 

Roman roads, 302. 

siege of, first, 299, 301. 

siege of, second, 296, 301, 309. 

Templars' chapel, 307. 
Meuse, department of, 321. 
Meuse river {see Maas). 
Mississippi river, 301. 
Mockem, 188. 

Mollenbeck, legend of Uffo of, 305. 
Mondidier, 345. 
Monnikendam, 32-4. 
Montreuil-sur-Mer, 341-44. 
Montreuil-sur-Mer, hotel de 

France at, 344. 
Moringer, legend of the noble, 
30s 



Moritz, Elector, 215. 
Moritzburg {near Meissen), 215, 

308. 
Moselle river: 283-8, 289, 294, 
295, 308. 

Alf, 286-7. 

Aiken, 283. 

Arras castle, 287. 
legend of, 287. 

Beilstein castle, 285. 

Bemcastel, 293. 

Bemcastler Doctor, legend of, 
292. 

blowout, our first, 286. 

Bremm, 286. 

Briittig, 285. 

charcoal burners, legends of, 
287-8. 

Cobem castles, 283. 

Cochem castle, 285. 

Ehrenburg castle, 284. 

Ehrgang, 288. 

Eller, 286. 

Eltz castle, story of, 284. 

ferry at Treis, 284-5. 

Gondorf, 283. 

legends of Moselle, 292. 

Petersberg, 285. 

Stuben, convent of, 285-6. 

Thuron castle, story of, 284. 

Treis, 284. 

Treis castles, 284. 

Trutzeltz castle, 284. 

Wildenburg castle, 284. 

Winneburg castle, 285. 
Mouse tower, 261. 
Muiden, 73. 

Muider-Slot, chateau, 74. 
Mulde river, 204, 220. 
Mrniich, 308. 
Muthusheer, 222. 

N 

Naarden, 71-3. 
Naardermeer Polder, 73. 
Napoleon I, 130, 179, 188, 250, 

265, 291. 
Napoleon III, 310. 
Nassau, Count John of, 63, 66. 
Netherlands {see Holland). 



2>^?> 



GENERAL INDEX 



New Utrecht, 64. 

Neckar river, 218. 

Nennig, 294. 

Neustria, 330. 

Nidda, legends of, 253. 

Nidda river, 252. 

Nieder-Ingelheim, 260. 

Nietzsche, 231. 

Nixies, legends of, 183-4, 247. 

Noord Hollandsch {North Hollaiid) 

Kanaal, 28. 
Nordhausen: 169-73, 175, 308. 
Dom (cathedral), 173. 
Judenthurm, 175. 
Klettenberg, legend of earl of, 

169-70. 
hotel Romischer Kaiser, 171-2. 
Markt, 171. 
Rathaus, 173. 
Roland, statue of, 173. 
Nordzee Kanaal {North Sea 

Canal), 16, 19, 43. 
Novels, historical {and books of 
legend) : 
" Barbara Blomberg," by George 

Ebers, 182. 
"Bis Zum Tode Getreu," by 

Felix Dahn, 91. 
" Burgomaster's Wife, the," by 

George Ebers, 57. 
" Captive of the Roman 
Eagles," byjFelix Dahn, 238. 
" Cloister and the Hearth," by 

Charles Reade, 7. 
" Die Ahnen," by Gustav Frey- 

tag, 237-8. 
" Dove in the Eagle's Nest," by 

Charlotte Yonge, 267. 
" Ehrenstein," by G. P. R. 

James, 267. 
"Ekkehard," by Victor von 

Scheffel, 206. 
" Felicitas," by Felix Dahn, 238. 
" If Youth But Knew," by A. & 

E. Castle, 124. 
" Ingo " {see Die Ahnen). 
" Ingraban " {see Die Ahnen). 
" In the Fire of the Forge," by 

George Ebers, 148. 
" In the Olden Time," by Mar- 
garet Roberts, 239. 



"Klytia," by Professor Haus- 

rath, 239. 
" Lichtenstein," by William 

Hauff, 239. 
" Lysbeth," by Rider Haggard, 

" Margery " {German, " Gred "), 

by George Ebers, 148. 
" My Lady Rotha," by Stanley 

Weyman, 155. 
" Passe Rose," by A. S. Hardy, 

91. 
"Philip Rollo," by James 

Grant, 155. 
" Prince Eugene and His Times," 

by Louisa Miihlbach, 276. 
" Saint of Dragon's Dale," by 

Wm. Stearns Davis, 245. 
" Strong Arm," by Robert Barr, 

267. 
" Swordmaker," by Robert 

Barr, 267. 
"Thekla," by Robert Barr, 

284-5. 
"Welt Untergang," by Felix 

Dahn, 148. 
" Yolanda," by Charles Major, 

S8. 
" Legends of the Harz," by 

Toofie Lauder, 214. 
" Legends of the Rhine," by A. 

M. Guerber, 263. 
Noyon, 33^, 345- 
Nuremberg, 308. 



O 



Odenwald, 255. 

Oise, department of, 7,7,2,. 

Orlamiinde, 224. 

Orlamiinde, legend of, 224. 

Orleans, 346. 

Orleans, Louis of, 332, 333. 

Orleans, Philip of, 276. 

Osnabriick, 88-91. 

Otto I, {the Great), 162, 215, 306. 

Otto I, legend of, 254. 

Otto III {Wonder of tfie World), 

178. 
Otto III, legend of, 254. 
Otto IV, 161. 



364 



GENERAL INDEX 



Ottocar, king of Bohemia, 266. 
Oxenburg, 181. 



Paintings, Dutch, 6, 19-20, 24-26, 

SO, 52. 

see also, Boyman's museum. 
Rijks museum. 
Frans Hals. 
Rembrandt. 
Paintings, German {see Nordhau- 

sen, Dresden, Weimar). 
Palatinate, 276, 280. 
Palatinate, Black Henry, count of, 

284. 
Palatine, elector, 214, 276. 
Pampus sand bank, 43. 
Pappenlieim, General, 155. 
Paris, 333, 346. 
Pas de Calais, 343. 
Passau, peace of, 299. 
Peasants' War, 239. 
Penig, 220. 
Perl, 294. 
Peronne, 345. 
Philip of Valois, 341. 
Philippines, the, 301. 
Picardy, 329, 333, 334, 336. 
Picquigny, 341, 342. 
Pierrefonds, chateau of, ^^^, 346. 
Pipin Heristal, 304. 
Pipin the Short, 304. 
Ponthieu, 343. 
Ponthieu, Guy of, 344. 
Pontoise, 333. 

Postilions in Germany, 227-8, 246. 
Provins, 346. 
Prussia : 

origin of kingdom of, 186, 205. 

provinces of, 185, 281. 

touring of eastern, 309. 
Pumping stations {Dutch), 46. 



Quedlinburg, 205, 213, 308. 

R 

Ravenspnmg, legends of counts 

of, 133, 181. 
Reformation, the, 300. 
{see also Martin Luther.) 



Regenstein, Count Albert of, 213, 
Reichstag, 179. 
Rembrandt, 19, 20, 52. 
Remigius (St. Remi), 261, 325-6. 
Remigius, legends of, 325-6. 
Reuss-Gera-Schleiz, 223. 
Reuss-Greiz, prince of, 218. 
Ressons, 345. 
Rezonville, 311, 313. 
Rheims: 322-27, 345. 

abbey and church of St. Remi, 
326. 

American bar, 326. 

bishop's palace, 326. 

cathedral, 323-5, 337. 

French funeral, 324. 

history, 323, 325-6. 

hotel Lion d'Or, 323, 326-7. 

legends of Rheims, 323, 324-5. 

Porte de Mars, 326. 

twelve Peers of France, the, 326. 
Rhine and Moselle, department of, 

281. 
Rhine, the German: 259-278, 
308. 

Bacharach, 271, 272. 

Bingen, 260-61. 

Bingerbriick, 261. 

Boppard, 275. 

Braubach, 276. 

Capellen, 277. 

Coblenz, 278, 279-83. 

Ehrenfels castle, 261, 262. 

Falkenburg {see Reichenstein) . 

Fiirstenberg castle, legend of, 
270. 

Germania, statue of, 261. 

Gutenfels castle, legend of, 
271-2. 

Katz, die, 274. 

Konigsstiihl, 277. 

Lahneck castle, 277. 

Liebeneck chateau, 276. 

Liebenstein castle, legend of, 

275- 
Lorch, 270. 

Lorelei, and legend, 273. 
Maus, die, 274. 
Marksburg, castle, 276. 
Mayence {see Mainz). 
Mouse Tower, legend of, 261. 



365 



GENERAL INDEX 



Rhine {cont.) 
Nieder-Lahnstein, 277. 
Nollich castle, legend of, 270. 
Oberwesel, 272. 
Pfalz, die, 271. 
Pfalz, the, legend of, 271. 
Reichenberg castle, 274. 
Reichenstein castle, 265, 267. 
Reichenstein castle, legends, 

267-8. 
Rheinfels castle, 274. 
Rheinfels castle, legend of, 275. 
Rheinstein castle, 263-4. 
Rheinstein castle, legend of, 

268-9. 
Rhens, 277. 
robber barons, 264-7. 
Roszstein, 273. 
Riidesheimer vineyards, 261. 
Riidesheimer vineyards, legend, 

.263. 
St. Clement, chapel of, 264, 267. 
St. Goar, 274. 
Schonburg castle, 273. 
Sooneck castle, 265, 269. 
Stahleck castle, 271. 
Sterrenberg castle, legend of, 

275. 
Stolzenfels castle, 277. 
Thumberg castle, legend of, 

274. 
Wisperthal, legend of, 270. 
Rhine, the old, {in Holland), 56, 

62, 68. 
Rhine, the old, (branches of), 68-9. 
Rhine tolls, 266, 274. 
Richard, earl of Cornwall, 178, 

271-2. 
Rijn (see Rhine). 
Rijks munt (mint), 65. 
Rijks museum, 23-6. 
Rip Van Winkle's prototj^e, leg- 
end of, 176. 
Ritter, Carl, 213. 
Rivecoup,_ 345. 
Roland, significance of statues of, 

173- 
Romans, in Germany, the, 260, 

272, 289-90. 
Ronneburg, 221, 223. 
Rossla, 175. 



Rothenburg-on-Tauber, 86, 218, 

308. _ 
Rothenstein, 224. 
Rotterdam: 5-7. 
Boomjes, 6. 
Boyman's museum, 6. 
church of St. Lawrence (Groote 

Kerk), 6._ 
Erasmus, birthplace of, 6. 
Groote Markt (Mg market), 6. 
Roye, 334, 345. 
Rudolph of Hapsburg, 178-9, 

265-6. 
Rudolph of Swabia, 160, 215. 



Saale river, 182, 224, 225. 

Saarbiurg, 293. 

Saar river, 293. 

St. Elizabeth, 244-5. 

St. Hilaire, 322. 

St. Martm, 345. 

St. Medard, 331. 

St. Menehould, 321. 

St. Quentin, 345. 

St. Riquier, 343. 

St. Valery-sur-Somme, 343. 

Salic line of emperors, 159-161. 

Salmiinster, 250. 

Sattelstedt, 240. 

Saxe-Altenburg (see Altenhurg). 

Saxe - Coburg - Gotha, duchy of, 

186, 239. 
Saxe - Coburg - Gotha, duke of, 

238, 239. 
Saxe - Weimar - Eisenach, grand 

duchy of, 186, 224. 
Saxe - Weimar - Eisenach, grand 

duchess of, 230. 
Saxe - Weimar - Eisenach, grand 

dukes of, 230. 
Saxon line of emperors, 159. 
Saxon principalities, the, 186. 
Saxons, the early, 91, 180, 237. 
Saxons, the early (legends of), 

180-81, 237. 
Saxon Switzerland, 217-18, 308. 
Saxony, duchy and electorate of, 

185-6, 214. 
Saxony, kingdom of, 185-6. 



366 



GENERAL INDEX 



Saxony, province of, 185. 

Scheveningen, 78. 

Schill, Major, 130. 

Schiller, Friedrich, 226, 230 

Schomberg, Marshal, 273. 

Seeburg castle, 182. 

Seligenstadt, 255. 

Semiramis, legend of, 289. 

Sens, 346. 

Sheep, 335. 

Shepherd dogs, 335. 

Siebleben, 239. 

Sierck, 294. 

Sittendorf, 176. 

Skat, the game of, 221. 

Soestdyke, 70. 

Soissons: 304, 330-31, 345- 

a Becket, Thomas, 330. 

battle of, 330. 

cathedral, 331. 

St. Jean des Vignes, 330. 

St. Medard, 331. 

St. Waast, 331. 
Somme, department of, 334, 343. 
Somme river, 336, 343. 
Sommes, a family of, 322. 
Sophia Dorothea of Zell, 123-5. 
Spielmann, 114. 
Spinoza, 19. 
States general, 64. 
Stavoren, 47. 

Steinmetz, General von, 310. 
Steinau, legend of the spring at, 

250. 
Strassburg, 276, 308. 
Suburbs of German cities, 203. 
Suippe river, 322. 
Suippes, 322. 
Siisse See, 182. 
Swabia, duchy of, 206. 



Tannhauser, 240, 244. 

Tenneberg chateau, 239. 

Ter Haar chateau, 63. 

Teutonic Order, 279. 

Teutonic Order, lodge of, 67, 279. 

Tharandt, 219. 

The Hague, 6, 64, 78. 

Thionville (see Diedenhofen). 



Thirty Years' War, 96, 155-6, 

188, 280. 
Thorn, 309. 

Thuringia, 185-6, 237, 248. 
Thuringia, landgraves of and 

legends, 183, 242-4. 
Thuringia, legends of, 222-3. 
Thuringian forest, 237, 239-40, 

244, 308. 
Till Eulenspiegel, 84, 130. 
Tilly, General, 155, 188. 
Time, change in, 320. 
Tours, 346. 

Trebeta, legend of, 289. 
Trekvaart, 54-5, 73. 
Treves: 283, 288, 289-93. 

abbey of St. Matthias, 292. 

age of city (see Rote Haus). 

a second Rome, 290-91. 

cathedral, 291. 

Carthusian monastery, 293. 

church of St. Gangolf, 292. 

Colonia Treverorum, 289. 

Conz, a Roman suburb, 293. 

history of city, 289-91. 

legend Berncastler Doctor, 292. 

legend of origin, 289. 

market cross, 291. 

palace of electors, 291. 

Porta Nigra, 290. 

Roman antiquities, 291, 293. 

Roman ruins, 291. 

Rote Haus, 291. 

Steip, 291. 
Treves, archbishops and electors 
of, 214, 274, 275, 277, 280, 
284, 291, 293. 
Tricot, 345. 
Triglaph, 290. 
Triptyques, 88, 318. 
Troyes, 322, 346. 
Tulip bulbs, 49. 



U 



Uelzen: 1 14-16. 
hotel Stadt Hamburg, 114. 
old houses with inscriptions, 

115-16. 
typical German luncheon, 115. 
twelfth century church, 115. 



367 



GENERAL INDEX 



Ulrich of Wiirtemberg, 239. 
Ulster river, 249. 
Urk, island of, 47. 
Utrecht: 63-8. 

academy of, 63. 

church of St. Jan, 66. 

cathedral of St, Martin, 66-7. 

hotel Pays Bas, 65. 

Huis Oudaen, 65. 

Maliebaan, 67, 68. 

monument, John of Nassau, 
66. 

New Utrecht, 64. 

Oude gracht, 65. 

" Pope's House," 67. 

Rijk's Munt (mint), 65. 

Singel, 68. 

Teutonic Order, lodge of, 67. 

town hall {Stadhuis), 65. 

imiversity, 67. 

Vredenburg, 65. 



V 



Valmy, 321. 

Varennes, 321. 

Vauban, 295, 307. 

Vecht river, 47. 

Verdim, 299, 302, 320, 321. 

Verdun road, 309, 310, 311, 312, 

320. 
Vesle river, 329, 330. 
Vierland peasant dress, 222. 
Villages, English, French and 

German, 86, 138. 
Village fiddler {see Spielmann). 
Vischer, Peter and Herman, 210. 
VioUet-Ie-Duc, 2i33- 
Vionville, 311, 312, 313, 314. 
Vleeschhal, 50. 
Volendam, 35-7. 
Von der Golz, General Baron, 

309- 
Vraincourt, 321. 
Vrouwensand, 47. 

W 

Wagner, Richard, 230. 
Wachensburg, castle, 238. 
Wadeliucourt river, 321. 



Waldemar, king of the Danes, 94, 

109, III. 
Wallenstein, General, 155. 
WalUiausen, 180. 
Wartburg, 241-2, 244-5. 
Water gate {see Koppel-Poort). 
Water gauges, 46. 
Watergrafsmeer Polder, 74. 
Weimar: 227, 228-31, 308. 

artistic fame of, 231. 

Cranach, painting by, 231. 

grand dukes of, 229, 230. 

Grand Duchess Anna Amalia, 
230. 

hotel Russischer Hof, 231. 

houses of noted men, 231. 

literary fame of Weimar, 229- 

musical fame of Weimar, 230. 
noted foreigners at Weimar, 
_ 230-31. 
Weinsberg, siege of, 253. 
Weisserit2; river, 219. 
Welf, origin of the house of, 120, 

126-7, 181. 
Welf, origin of the name (legend) , 

132. 
Wends, the, 94, 186, 205, 290. 
Werewolves, 222-3. 
Wemigerode, 214. 
Werra river, 249. 
Westphalia, peace of, 89. 
Wettin, house of, 221. 
White Lady, legend of, 224. 
Wieland, 230. 
William I, German emp., 176, 179, 

279, 281, 310, 312. 
William II, German emp. {see 

Kaiser). 
William the Conqueror's invasion 

of England, 96, 160, 343, 

344. 
William the Silent, 57, 63. 
Willegis, archbp., 262. 
Winfrid {see Boniface). 
Witchcraft, 219, 222, 223, 236. 
Wittelsbach, house of, 186. 
Woerden, 63. 
Wolsey, Cardinal, 343. 
Woippy, 296, 297. 
Wrede, Prince, 250. 



368 



GENERAL INDEX 

Wrede, Prince, legend of, 250. Z 

Wiirzburg, 218. 

Wurzen, 204. Zahringen, duke of (legend), 288. 

Zell {see Celle). 
Y Zuyder Zee, 35, 42-3, 46. 

Zuyder Zee, dead cities of, 32-3, 
Y, the {see Het I J). 42-3, 47-8. 

Yssel river, 47. Zuyder Zee, reclamation of, 46-7. 



369 



H lub 8 9 



" "-^^.^ • 




